


bloodlines

by ataharcot



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Gen, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin Rivalry, Infidelity, Like Seriously A Lot Of Angst, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Sibling Love, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, basically the marauders' era, but unconventional, nini has an older brother, questionable (?) sortings i'm sorry, racism against muggles, ricky has a younger sister yay, set in the days of voldemort's rise to power, you will get to see harry potter professors bc this author is lazy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:34:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24429565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ataharcot/pseuds/ataharcot
Summary: NINA ROSIERknows that she should hate Muggle-borns and blood traitors. She knows that she should think that she is above them, that pure-bloods reign superior and untainted. She knows that a good pure-blooded girl does not talk to them unless she insults or turns her nose up at them like the filth they are. But as the Dark Lord who claims to be the saviour of her kind rises, Nina can't help but question everything she thought she knew about her world.RICKY BOWENis an enigma. A blood traitor who turns his back on pure-bloods and their society, disgusted by theirsuperiorbeliefs. He knows there's something brimming underneath the surface of their condescending façade, something that will break the barely held together Wizarding World— the question is if it's for better or for worse.-or; the harry potter au absolutely no one asked for set in the marauder's era
Relationships: Ricky Bowen/Nini Salazar-Roberts
Comments: 34
Kudos: 98





	1. a good pure-blooded girl

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i've been reading a lot of rini fics and after i finished ["all i know since yesterday (is everything has changed)"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23958541) (my life as we know it au) i've been watching the harry potter movies and rereading the books. i couldn't help but be curious about narcissa malfoy and her sisters, bellatrix and andromeda, as well as pretty much all of pureblood culture, so this is pretty much this fic is about. it's a very unconventional harry potter au, but you will see them in hogwarts and out. this has been a wip for the past few months and it's finally out! (thank god)  
> here are some notes for the story:  
> \- very nina centric (yes nini is nina again i'm sorry but like all i know the nickname will come up *wink wonk*)  
> \- it's a slow burn, and you won't even meet ricky until... a two, three, four chapters in, i guess (you will hear OF the bowens though if that's ok)  
> \- there's a shoot ton of world building and i'm sorry if you don't like it  
> \- nina has a father. YES i know that she has two mothers, but for plot purposes she has a father— carol roberts will show up later  
> \- nina has an older brother named cassian  
> \- this probably will have them come up as oc but i'm trying my best to keep them in character as much as possible  
> \- most of my sources are from pottermore, the books, and harry potter wiki— i will not be taking material out of the movies and the cursed child  
> \- you may not like my sortings but it's easier to build friendships that way— though i can justify them (just not as strongly as some other houses)  
> \- this does take place during the marauders era; harry potter characters (save for the professors because i can and voldemort) will not be exclusively talked about in here— for all we know there is no chosen one  
> \- if you've read the tags you do know there will be sensitive topics in this story— the racism is exclusively against muggles, and not the colour of their skin  
> \- no ships are established as of yet... everything is fair game  
> \- gina, ashlyn, seb, and carlos are the same ages as ricky, nina, kourtney, and big red (ej is still a year older)
> 
> tw: domestic violence, racism, homophobia, sexism, infidelity

_A good pure-blooded girl must never speak first._

_A good pure-blooded girl does not challenge her head of house._

_A good pure-blooded girl will make an advantageous match when the time comes to benefit her house._

_A good pure-blooded girl will always put her bloodline first._

Nina had those customs drilled into her head since she was a young child. 

Blood purity is what is saving the Wizarding World, Papa often told her. The notions of tainted blood was what ruined their world, put them at risk of breaking the Statute of Secrecy. Muggle-borns, no, _Mudbloods_ as Papa had told her to say were dirty, filthy, and should never even exist on the same level as wizards. The notion of having to _hide_ their power was downright insulting, seeing as the magic were far more superior, and they should rule over them, not cower away.

Mama had a different story to tell her. She had told Nina that although the magic may be more powerful, they should treat Muggles as equals. The word _M_ _udblood_ was a dirty word, something terribly offensive and that Nina should never, ever say. 

“Just because their blood is not pure,” Mama had mused on a rainy day while Papa was out with Cassian and his Very Important pure-blood friends, “does not mean they are lower than us. Everyone has something special, my star, and we mustn’t judge them for what they don’t have, but celebrate them for what they do. Muggles are just as innovative and important as we are.”

Cassian had snorted when she told him what Mama said, telling her seriously, “Muggles may be our equals, but we cannot spend our days hiding from them in fear.” His voice dropped down an octave, eying the room warily. “You should never repeat those words in front of Father, Star, he’d be furious.”

Cassian was the perfect pure-blood heir, Papa had often crowed. Since she was young, Cassian had grown to be what her father always wanted him to be. He showed his first definite sign of magic at three years old when he unlocked the door of his room to grab another treacle tart from the kitchen. Usually, Papa would be mad, but it was Cassian’s first sign that he would be a wizard.

She knew that Papa was waiting for her first signs of magic. She knew that she was disappointing him, for nothing could be worse than having a squib for a child, especially from a line as noble as theirs. 

Papa was a Rosier, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and he had often said it was the most important to be a wizard or witch from a line there. The Sacred Twenty-Eight are the bloodlines that have never been tainted, never dirtied by impurities that were Muggles or half-bloods. Those lines often were preserved through inbreeding, which caused less children and more squibs, something that Grandmère said should be impossible because Papa married Mama.

Mama was a Salazar, an ancient and most noble line of pure-bloods from Asia. They were said to be the founding members of the wizarding community in China, having moved there from the Philippines three hundred years ago. Papa had made her study and memorize her family tree so that she would always know the worth of her line. The Salazars were more pure, more esteemed than any other bloodline in the Sacred Twenty-Eight (except for the Rosiers, Grandmère often boasted). 

The reason Papa married Mama was simple. The Rosier bloodline had been dying out, the children born were squibs and therefore had to be tossed away. Inbreeding to preserve the bloodline was no longer working, so they had to bring in entirely new blood to keep the magic strong. The Salazar bloodline was untapped potential in Britain, so Nina and Cassian were supposed to be strong with unseen abilities.

At least, that was what Cassian reasoned to her when Mama and Papa had another fight. “I mean, it’s kind of obvious,” he remarked while organizing his pieces of parchment with just a flick of his hand. Their tutor had just left, finished with schooling them on mundane, normal topics, and, of course, the bloodline’s importances. “Maman and Father can never stand to be in the same room as one another for more than a simple meal before they’re at each other’s throats.” After noticing Nina’s saddened expression, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry Star, I know you want it to be love, but Maman and Father are not in love. Perhaps they never were. You know how common marriages such as these are.”

It was true. To further instill the notion of blood purity and maintaining their lines, pure-blood parents often arranged marriages between their children to ensure family ties as well as their rise for power. Many families Nina knew, the Caswells, the Selwyns, the Burkes, had all had arranged marriages, but they never seemed to fight as much as her parents did.

Cassian had laughed when she told him that, slouching over in his seat before straightening as if a board had slapped his back. “Nina,” he told her seriously, his dark eyes so much like her own staring straight in hers, “you know how marriages are arranged?” She nodded, unsure of where he was going with it. “The lord of the house, the person like Father, often has affairs, while the lady stays faithful and runs the household.”

“Why is that?” she could not stop herself from asking. “That is very unfair if the lord gets to run around with anyone he wants, while the lady must take care of the children and run the manor. It’s a breach of their vows! Wouldn’t they die?”

“Nina, most choose not to make an Unbreakable Vow before marriage,” Cassian replied simply, sipping his tea primly. Nina did the same, her eyes following his movements as she tried to mimic them. “The lady of the house gets to know that she is the one who is the wife, the lady, while the other women are mistresses with none of our money in their names. You’ll understand eventually.”

Nina did not. She was a curious little girl, only six years of age, but she was intuitive. She knew that Cassian was trying to prepare her for the inevitable, for their blood was ‘diluted’ enough to start arranging marriages within Britain again. It was obvious in the words the Minister of Magic had said when he came over for brunch last year.

“Oh, you have a son and daughter?” he asked Papa, who nodded proudly. “That must work out wonderfully for you, an heir and a little girl to make the best ties. I myself only have three sons, and it’s a madhouse trying to contain them from one another. They all want to be my heir.”

The Rosier manor, the millions of galleons to their name, their vacation homes and titles will all go to Cassian when Father passes. Only a male should succeed as the Master of their bloodline, no matter what the order of the children were. The female would receive a sizable amount of money, the family jewels (Grandmère often showed Nina her favourite pieces) and some of their vintage robes, but that was all. It was unfair, but Nina knew that she could forge her own life when she got old enough, with magic or not.

She also knew for a fact that when she reached a certain age, she too will be married to the most advantageous match, forever doomed in a loveless parents not unlike her parents. 

“Just because you are a girl does not mean you are worth anything less,” her Lola had scoffed after Nina had gotten a scolding from Grandmère. “If anything, you are worth more, celebrated and loved and respected. The Brits don’t know what they are talking about.”

Her Lola flooed in from Asia only thrice a year. Nina often wished she did more. Lola, besides Cassian, was her only friend — Papa had controlled who Nina had talked to — Ashlyn Caswell was too quiet, Evan James Caswell was too brash, and Howie Selwyn too bashful. She never really called them her friends, but they often sat together during long, dreadfully boring meals while their parents talked smack about Muggles. 

Lola could speak another language too, Tagalog, and Mama as well, but Papa had refused to allow her to learn it. She was to know only English and French, as the Rosiers came from France, but Mama had taught her a bit of the dialect in secret. Before Nina would go to sleep, she would stare up at the ceiling and say some of the words Mama had taught her over and over again, before she could successfully owl an entire letter in Tagalog to Lola.

Papa had been furious. 

He burns her parchment with a simple _Incendio_ , watching her months of hard work, her detailed notes with her loopy handwriting scribbled on elegantly with a quill, all go up in a simple burst of a flame. He then forbade her from using the owl, the house elves were unable to even talk to her (not like they did anyways, Papa never let them in the first place), but worst of all, Lola did not visit the entire year.

Nina had never been more angry in her life. The flames that took her hope, her one tie to her mother’s side of her family, the entire half of her that Papa always forced her, Cassian, and most of all Mama to suppress, had turned her heart into ice. 

She hadn’t noticed it then, but while she sobbed and begged Papa to not be too harsh on her, after he had left her to cry on her bed, the charred quill from Lola in her hand, the ashes of the parchment had mended back together as if they were never scorched.

After all, she was a pure-blooded witch. Her abilities as a Salazar-Rosier were supposed to be superior to all. 

Even if no one believed she had it in her.

* * *

Nina Angelique Rosier is a newborn baby the first time she showed a sign of magic.

It was subtle, the pegasus plush she was cuddling had dropped to the floor, and instead of wailing, had calmly summoned it back to her arms. It was so unnoticeable no one saw, not even her ever so attentive house elf Tilly, who was assigned to her from birth, or her mother, who had gone to the loo during the moment. 

Therefore, no one knew if she possessed the skill or not. She, while descended from the most noble and ancient lines of Salazar and Rosier, was thought to be a squib or an extremely weak witch. She was only six years old, but Cassian had shown his definite sign when he was just three, so Nina was either a late bloomer, or not magical at all. 

“You know, it’s okay if you’re just waiting for the right moment,” Cassian told her while concentrating on his book, _The History of Magic_. “It’s just that it’d be nice for you to show a sign before I go off to Hogwarts. Ease Maman and Father up, alright?”

She nearly burst into tears right then and there. Her lips trembled as she responded. “I’m trying Cass, I really am! See!” She closed her eyes and imagined the book flying out of his hands and into hers. Nothing happened. She tried again, concentrating harder, her fists clenching, which made her nails dig into her skin. Nothing again. She opened her eyes to see Cassian staring at her sympathetically. “It’s just that, no matter what I try, nothing ever happens.”

He put down his book and walked over to her, taking her hand. They always held hands when they were upset, stemming from when Nina was first born. It was something comfortable, knowing that they would also be there for one another. Cassian would always have Nina’s back, and vice versa.

“Star.” He pulled her into a hug as she sobbed into her shoulder, her hiccups echoing through the ornate room. “It’s alright that you can’t show magic just yet, everyone develops at their own pace.” He sounded exactly like Mama did, his voice just as low and soothing as hers, and Nina started to calm down. Her sobs slowed. “I know you can’t control it, but I think that if you could, do it before you turn eleven.”

Eleven. 

It was the age where you would start your education on witchcraft and wizardry. Hogwarts was a beautiful, mysterious school, the best school in fact, despite Mama’s arguments for Mahoutokoro, her school. Papa had attended Hogwarts when he was eleven, until he graduated and was in Slytherin. 

Most Very Important pure-bloods had been in Slytherin. Nina wasn’t too sure that she would be— she doubted that she would be placed in that house. Papa had often complained to Mama or his friends about how she was too soft and a push-over to be in such an esteemed house, while she was hiding behind the door listening in. Cass would be in Slytherin, Nina just knew it.

A frightening thought, one that made her terrified for her future, came up into mind as she asked, clearly horrified. “Cass, what would happen if I’m a squib?”

Her brother sucked in a deep breath, his large brown eyes sad. “Well then, I guess Father would disown you.”

There was no use for a daughter in most pure-blooded families besides marrying them for the best political ties. A magicless daughter, a _squib_ , well, they were more than useless. There were rumors that the Lestranges had a daughter once, a squib, and she had passed from dragon pox when she turned eleven. At least, that what the Lestranges said had happened. Nina knew better.

“You don’t— Cass, you don’t think I’m a squib, right?” Her wide eyes stared up pleadingly at her brother, who said nothing. “Oh no, Papa is going to disown me, isn’t he? And— and he’s going to make me disappear like Renata Lestrange!”

“No, that won’t happen,” Cassian declared quite firmly, silencing his little sister. “You won’t be a squib Nina, I know you have it in you. And even if you are one, Maman nor I will let Father disown you. You would probably be sent to live with Lola, that’s all.”

If Nina was less perceptive, she would have believed him. But Nina was small and quiet, oddly observant because she could hear Mama and Papa argue often and know exactly what they were arguing about. Nina knew that Papa meant to isolate Mama from everything she ever loved, which is why Tagalog was forbidden, why Lola only visited thrice a year, why Mama was always so sad. 

The Salazar-Rosier line were like plants; Papa was as brash and prickly as a cactus, sucking out water and storing them in themselves, hurting those who got too close. They stood strong and never gave into anything, as they could survive in something as dry and lifeless as the desert.

Cass was a cherry tree — strong, resilient, and always providing for others. Cherry trees give without any thought to themselves, and were not easy to dispose of. They were also the most beautiful in bloom, the pink flowers filling up the branches. Mama took her and Cass to see the cherry trees in bloom during the spring.

And Mama? Mama was a jasmine. Beautiful, fragrant, but jasmines needed sun and care. Without sun, a jasmine would simply wilt away and die, a miserable end to such a beautiful flower. They needed constant care, someone to always tend after it, and the results of caring for a jasmine were well worth it. 

Nina knew that Cassian wanted the conversation to be done with, that he was uncomfortable with the topic. He was scared, scared for not only Nina’s sake but Mama’s as well, for although she bore a male heir with inherently strong magic, the girl, the daughter, might be a dud. Papa would punish both of them. So, instead of questioning it further, Nina replied, rather teasingly, “That might be nice. You would visit me, wouldn’t you?”

Cass had looked so surprised Nina almost held back a laugh, but an amused smile had graced her delicate features. “Well, of course I would!” he exclaimed after a moment. “I need to constantly remind you of my presence, or you would forget about me!”

“And wouldn’t that be a much-needed break for me,” she teased, laughing at Cassian’s incredulous expression. “Oh, you know I’m kidding, right?”

He composed himself, a small smile playing on his lips. “Of course I do,” he told her. He took her hand once more and squeezed it once. A sign of affection. “Star, you know that I’m here for you no matter what, right? We Rosiers stick together, and we always come out on top.”

“ _Salazar_ -Rosier,” Nina corrected, making Cass laugh. Nina had always insisted on attaching Mama’s maiden name to theirs. “We Salazar-Rosiers always stay together and come out on top.”

“Alright,” Cassian said. “We always stay together.”

* * *

Mama and Papa’s fights were explosive and someone (Mama) always ended up getting hurt. Sometimes there was blood, sometimes there was broken glass, but there was always a call for a house elf to clean it up after it was all over to erase the existence of it.

Nina knew that they fought about her. It was obvious in the ways Papa always asked her if she had shown signs of magic during the usually quiet dinners, and the way Mama snaps back at him to tell him that Nina will show when she’s ready. It was obvious in the way Cassian bowed his head down and shut his eyes, steeling himself for the onslaught of words (sometimes spells) coming their way. It was obvious in the ways the house elves sped in and out of the room quicker than usual, with Papa’s mistreatment of them, not even sparing the girl a glance. 

A fight would always move to Papa’s study, where crashing and screaming and shouting could be heard. Cass usually took her to the gardens to sit and ignore what was going on inside.

But this time, Nina had been going to the loo, the closest one being near the study. Cass didn’t know she was going to go near there. No one in their right mind— child or house elf— would go anywhere close to the room while the lord and lady fought, when Dragonrose Den was as big as it was.

Nina didn’t think of that, but she heard the shouting and crashing, she crept to the door and peered through the crack.

“You can’t keep asking her if she showed signs of magic! She will show at her own time, just like I bet you did!” Mama snapped, her brown eyes narrowed in anger as she glared at her husband. 

Papa scoffed. “ _‘She will show at her own time’_ , what a load of shite. I showed at four years old, and Cassian showed at three. Rosier blood is never for _‘late bloomers’_ , or whatever bloody excuse you’ve come up with! She’s either a squib or _not my daughter_ , just some bastard, you whore!”

“Are you insinuating that Nina is not your daughter?” Mama sounded angry, angrier than she usually did. Nina didn’t think she’d ever seen her as outraged as she was now.

“Well, I never would know if you whored yourself out, you came from a filthy country after all,” Papa snarled, his ice blue eyes flashing with a wicked glint.

Mama stepped closer, making Nina recoil in fear for her. Papa was erratic, unstable, and angry. He was drinking firewhiskey during dinner as well. “How dare you!” she hissed. “If anything had messed up your _precious bloodline_ , it would be your family’s disgusting inbreeding, not my _filthy country_. And don’t you preach to me about my nonexistent affairs while you run off with a pretty young half-blood or even— even Muggle-borns that you insist are disgusting. How many bastards do _you_ have that are just waiting to have their hands on Rosier gold?”

Papa stepped closer, her parents glaring at each other with pure hatred in their eyes. Nina held with bated breath as she waited to see what would happen.

It was like ice and fire, dark and light, the way Mama and Papa fought. Mama was all fire, full of fiery, passionate love where she would protect those she loved with everything she got. She was a warm, burning hearth, a single candle in the darkness that would guide you home. She made you feel warm when cold and strong when you felt weak. 

But Papa was ice, all cold and hard and unyielding no matter what. Ice provided a reflection of yourself but it was distorted, ugly, and elongated some of the features you hated until you could not look at yourself anymore. Fire may melt ice, but after it does, ice becomes water, and smothers out the last of the waning flames.

Instead of striking her, he takes out his wand and hissed, _“Diffindo.”_ Mama cried out in pain as a large gash cut the side of her cheek, but Papa silenced her with a simple _“Silencio.”_

Mama could not perform a healing spell on herself. Papa would not do it for her. Nina stood there powerless as Papa yanked Mama’s chin forward. “Don’t you ever speak to me like that again,” he threatened, “or you’ll get worse than a cut on your face. How would you feel if your squib daughter was on this side of my wrath?”

She did not say anything. She couldn’t. Papa took away her voice. But Mama could not be deterred as she spat in Papa’s face, the man shoving her to the ground and kicking her before grabbing a handkerchief and promptly exiting the room.

Nina gasped, quickly hiding behind the door as Papa stormed past her, not even noticing her in his fury. After he was gone, she rushed in the study to Mama’s side, cupping her trembling cheeks in her own shaking hands as she sobbed with her mother. The older woman was too weak to move, her cheek in pain as Nina held her mother and wished for things to be different.

The first act of definite magic Nina Angelique Rosier performed was healing her mother’s cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that was the first chapter! there was definitely a lot of exposition and world building in this, but i hope you guys liked this! i don't know how long this story will be, anywhere from 10-30 chapters (that's super broad but whatever). 
> 
> if you liked this story, you could go check out my life as we know it au ["all i know since yesterday (is everything has changed)"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23958541). it's a super long name, probably why this name is super short. 
> 
> anyhoo, let me know what you think in the comments!


	2. a little shop of salvation

Nina Rosier sat in the ornate sitting room that they barely used unless it was Very Important pure-blood business. The couch was stiff and uncomfortable, not sat on often, seeing as Papa usually met his Very Important pure-blood friends somewhere else.

Cass sat beside her just as uncomfortable as Papa crowed, rereading the letter out so everyone could hear. It was a hot July day, the 28th in fact, and the heat sweltered, making Nina sweat a little in her yellow summer dress. She saw a bead of sweat drip down his forehead and itched to wipe it off, but refrained from doing so. Papa might get mad.

“Dear Mr. Rosier, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment,” Papa announced, causing Mama to roll her eyes from her spot beside him. She was lucky he didn’t see. “Term begins 1 September. We await your owl no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress.”

He went up to Cass and offered out a hand, which Cassian took, albeit nervously. “My boy is going to Hogwarts!” 

Mama and Nina offered another uncomfortable round of applause as Cass tried to not look embarrassed. “Really Father, thank you,” he replied humbly. “I’m excited to learn at the best wizarding school in the world this September.”

“And you’ll be in Slytherin no doubt.” Papa looked over at Cassian, who gaped a litte. “Don’t look at me like that my boy, we all know it. All Rosiers are in Slytherin, the best house!”

Cass gave a weak smile. “Of course.”

“I need to tell my friends about this, but they have already known. You have always been a prodigy, performing handy like tricks and spells since you were a child! And now you’re eleven… oh I have never been so proud!”

Nina tuned Papa out as he rambled on and on about Cass’ achievements. Her brother looked rather stiff as he nodded along to what their father was talking about. She wondered if he was scared.

She would be. Why, they’ve never been away from home before. The trips to the chateau in France, the one time they went to the sprawling Salazar Estate when she was five, the lake house, but it was never permanent. She and Cass have never been separated before. The very concept of being far apart alarmed her more than she would like to admit, especially to Cass, who in 34 days would be in Scotland for the rest of the year. 

Would he come back for Christmas? Students there had the option to stay in the castle over the breaks. Her birthday was in October, so he’d miss that. She’d miss his May birthday as well. 

She paused in her pondering. _What does that mean for her?_

When Mama and Papa fought, Cass would always be there. When she had a nightmare, Cass was there. When she felt sick out of her stomach and vomited, her brother was always there. But what happens when he’s gone? 

“—and we’ll be expecting a letter for Nina in two years,” Papa concluded, jolting Nina out of her thoughts. 

She blinked, trying to regain her senses as she mustered a weak smile and nodded. “We will.”

There was nothing more to say. Papa strode out of the sitting room, whistling— he never did that before— as Cassian went over to Mama. She offered him a soft smile, gentle but very proud, and wrapped her arms around her son in an embrace.

“I am very proud of you Cassian,” she whispered, kissing the crown of his head softly. Her eyes met Nina’s as she opened her arm out wider. The girl rushed into her embrace. “But don’t feel pressured about which house you’re in. I know that you’ll do well anywhere you are.”

Cass didn’t say anything for a while, before uttering, “You know I have to be. It’s the only way to—”

“It’s not.” Mama’s brown eyes flashed and drew her lips into a thin line. “I’ll make sure it’s not going to happen. I just want you to be happy my moon. I will be just fine.”

“Perhaps being in Slytherin would help—”

“No.” Mama suddenly looked very, very tired, the lines on her face more prominent than possible on a youthful Salazar face. “Cassian Phillipe, you must make your own destiny. Do what is best for you, not for me or your father. You mustn't let your bloodline dictate _everything_ for you, or else you’ll never find yourself.”

Cass never looked so small as Nina stared at him, watching his every move. His icy Rosier eyes were determined, hardened, but sad. Nina took her brother’s hand and squeezed it once, giving him a tiny smile as he looked up at her.

“I just wanted to help.” His voice was soft, meek, so unlike himself. He looked defeated, something that shouldn’t be possible for a boy on top of the world. “He won’t stop when I’m gone Maman.”

“And that’s alright. We’ll be alright, darling.” Mama combed her fingers through the strands of Cassian’s dark hair. “I promise.”

Cass didn’t say anything, just clutched onto their mother tightly and shut his eyes in disbelief. Mama sighed as she continued to run her fingers along his back in a soothing motion, trying to comfort him. 

Nina, however, believed her.

* * *

Diagon Alley was blooming with witches and wizards alike on the warm August day. The golden sun beat down on them, and Nina was grateful that Mama had told her to wear a hat before apparating. The multi-coloured spectrum of the London shopping area was vibrant and full of life.

Nina had been to Wizarding London many times. It was composed of alleys— from the busy Diagon Alley to the dark Knockturn Alley, Amor Alley, somewhere Nina was never allowed near, and Ambrosi Alley, the most elite and expensive of all. They often went to lunch and dinner there, either to celebrate birthdays or just go out. 

Papa preferred _Somptueux,_ an expensive restaurant with beautiful lights and small portions. So, they went there for brunch, Papa raving on and on about his days at Hogwarts and all the best spots to look forward to in the dungeons. Cass listened in what someone who didn’t know him as well would say as genuine interest, but Nina knew from the slight clench in his jaw that he was bored.

They went to Diagon Alley after brunch, Nina clutching onto Mama as they apparate once more. There are children there, some with their parents, some with professors from Hogwarts. Nina could recognize Minerva McGonagall in her elegant robes as she showed a family around the wizarding shopping square. Nina knew they were Muggles, from the odd way they dressed to the wrinkle in Papa’s nose.

“I’ll take Cassian to get his things,” he announced, causing Mama and NIna to look up at him almost simultaneously. Almost like an afterthought, he added, “You two can… look around. I’ll find you when we’re ready to go home.”

Mama nodded as Papa grabbed Cass’ arm, her brother sending her an almost desperate look as his mouth formed the words _help_. Nina giggled as he was dragged away into the colourful crowd, Papa weaving through the patrons in almost disgust.

“Well then my star, what do you want to do today?” Mama looked quite happy, better than she did since they got the letter from Hogwarts. Her lips were turned in a small smile. 

Nina shrugged, looking around the alley as if she was there for the first time. “I don’t know… I do want to get more books though.”

Mama took Nina’s hand. “I know just the place.”

Obscurus Books was a beautiful older shop at 18a Diagon Alley. Books were stacked from top to bottom, couches and sofas arranged in a neat cluster, and candles glowing faintly from the walls. The bell chimed when they opened the door, and a blonde woman moved to greet them. 

“Hello, welcome to Obscurus Books!” she turned her eyes to Mama, widening them in shock. She pushed a strand of golden locks behind her ear and turned a little red. “Oh, hello Dana. It’s been a while.”

Mama gave her a soft smile, one that reached her eyes. It was something Nina didn’t see for quite some time. “It has been, Carol. How have you been?” 

“Good, good, the shop’s been doing well. We got some new books in, Newt Scamander released another one of his.” She moved them into the shop, her presence warm and bright. The shop smelled familiar, like jasmines and Mama’s perfume, and Nina stared up at the blonde woman. “Oh Dana, I almost forgot! Who is this gorgeous girl?”

Mama beamed, showing off her pearly white teeth as she laughed a little. The sound was almost foreign to Nina’s ears, but by now she realized that although she was Mama’s daughter, she almost knew nothing about her. “This is my daughter Nina. Nina, this is Carol Roberts. She works here at Obscurus Books.”

Nina nodded, her ears catching the last name. _Roberts_. Muggle-born. What in the name of Merlin’s beard was Mama doing associating with a Muggle? If Papa knew, he would be furious. Everywhere Mama went would be monitored, watched, and recorded. She would never be able to go anywhere again freely! 

“So, you said the new book from Newt Scamander is here?” Carol nodded. “My daughter was looking for a new book, do you think you could get that for us?”

“Of course!” the woman grabbed her wand out of her pocket and waved a quick summoning charm to get the book. It was an ornate thing— dark with gold designs and the words _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ — and Nina stared at it in wonder, almost itching to take it. Papa wouldn’t be mad if she read it. The author was a pure-blood, Sacred Twenty-Eight at that, and she was almost excited to read it. “That’s just two galleons.”

“Alright.” Mama handed her the two golden coins before taking the book. Their hands brushed against one another, but Nina didn’t think much more of it. It was merely a coincidence, they were simply friends— although the notion of Mama being friends with a muggle was beyond her— and Mama was married. 

She looked almost sorrowful as she took the book, her eyes flicking a little and her smile faded. “Goodbye Carol, I’ll try to pick up some more books the next time I’m in Diagon Alley!”

The blue eyes stared at her mother, long lashes framing them. “Goodbye Dana,” she said softly, as if full of regret. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will.”

Mama took Nina’s hand once more and strode out of the shop, sparing a glance at the blonde Muggle-born on as they crossed the threshold. As soon as they stepped out of the shop, Nina turned to Mama. 

“What was that about?” Nina demanded. Mama’s eyes widened in shock, clearly not expecting an outburst from her usually docile and quiet daughter.

“What was what about?” 

Nina scoffed, eying the alley warily to ensure there was no one listening in on their conversation before dropping her voice. “Why were you associating with a _Muggle_? Papa would throw a fit if he knew—”

“And he won’t.” Mama looked upset, her previous good nature gone as her mouth straightened into an angry line. “There is nothing wrong with talking to a muggleborn, Nina. She’s a witch as well, with the same magic as you and me. I’ve told you this many times before that Muggles are not beneath us, despite everything your father preaches about.”

She did not believe her, arching her brow at her mother in a mix between anger and shock. “Do you think he cares? Mama, you and a muggleborn are not the same. There are abilities passed down only through untainted and most noble of lines that muggles cannot even fathom. The fact that you come here _often_ to talk to that woman when you could talk to Marie Selywn, Hestia Caswell, even Alessandra Porter! Any pure-blood woman!” Her voice broke a little as she tried to calm herself. “Papa would never let you be free again.”

“You think I’m free?” Mama laughed bitterly, suddenly aging 20 years from her 35. She shook her head, her expression sullen as she stared back at Nina. “When I married Aramus Rosier, I lost _everything_. My family, my country, my _freedom_. My mother cannot come unless he allows it. I cannot talk to a Muggle-born, a half-blood, or Merlin forbid, a blood traitor. This shop is not just about rebellion, Nina. No, it’s about _salvation_.”

Nina took a steadying breath before hardening her gaze. “ _A good pure-blood girl does not talk to Mudbloods,_ ” she recited, holding her mother’s stare. The chocolate brown eyes became glassy as she continued. “A good pure-blood girl will always abide by her head of house. A good pure-blood girl will _always_ put her bloodline first.”

“Good thing I’m not a pure-blood _girl_ ,” Mama snapped. “I am a wife, a woman, and above all, your mother. I can make my own choices, my own mistakes. I am not a child that is incapable of thinking for herself.” She deflated, taking a deep breath. “I shouldn’t talk about this matter with you, my star. Is there anything I can bribe you with to drop this conversation?”

Nina opened her mouth, ready to retort back that she _should_ , that she didn’t understand why Mama would do such a thing, something _forbidden_. But she was a good pure-blood girl at her heart, and they were never confrontational, so despite her better judgement she nodded. “I want a sherbet at Florean Fortescue’s, and then a chocolate frog.”

Mama chuckled, taking her hand and leading them away further away from the shop. “Anything for you darling.”

* * *

Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor was a small little shop beside the Second-Hand Bookshop, a place where only the people who could not afford the textbooks for Hogwarts shopped. She had never been in there before, Papa would never allow it. No Rosier would ever show their face in a place like that.

The parlor was bright and colourful, the olive green door leading to a row of vibrant ice cream lined up. There was a line, as always, leading outside the door onto the cobblestone alley. There were tables and chairs outside, where some families sat and ate their ice cream. Nina noticed a man with his blonde wife handing their curly haired son a caramel cone, while their tiny blonde daughter sat on the wife’s lap. She didn’t think more of it.

They were stuck behind a Muggle or half-blood family, for the way they dressed insinuated that they did not belong in the wizarding part of London. Nina wrinkled her nose, but Mama didn’t seem to mind as she hummed in that calming way of hers. _Of course she didn’t_ , Nina thought, _she’s_ **_friends_ ** _with a Muggle_.

When they finally got to the parlour after what seemed like an hour of waiting— it was only 15 minutes— Nina sighed in relief as the kindly old Fortescue beamed down at her. 

“Well my dear, what can I get for you?” he asked, his eyes flicking in recognition from a spared glance to her mother. He smiled gently at Mama. “There are new flavours to try— even a salted caramel with toffee!”

Nina bit her lip in contemplation and took another look at the selection. “The chocolate and raspberry please.”

“Coming right up!” Mama handed 10 sickles to the man, who took it warmly. “Dana, how are you?”

“I’m good Florean,” she replied warmly as he turned to scoop the ice cream into the cone. “Getting my errands done, taking Nina around Diagon Alley. Cassian is going to Hogwarts this year.”

He handed Nina the cone and placed a napkin in her hand. “They grow up very quickly, don’t you think?” His brown eyes sparkled. “I still remember when you brought in Cassian and Nina for the first time—” he looked into the distance, a soft smile turning the corners of his lips up, “—she was this small and Cassian was just a little boy. Now he’s going to Hogwarts! When Nina goes too, it will truly tell me how much time has passed by.”

“They do grow up fast, don’t they?” An amused expression played on her features as she gazed warmly at her daughter. “To think that in two years it will be Nina… all my children are going away to the second best school for magic.”

Mr. Fortescue laughed, deep and hearty which filled the small space. “The second best? My dear, you must be mistaken. Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry is the best school in the entire world. Your school cannot even compare!”

“Mahoutokoro School of Magic was the best, Florean, and if you went you’d know it.” A customer behind them cleared their throat, causing Mama to turn back around, alarmed. “Well, we seem to be certainly holding up the line. I’ll see you later, Florean Fortescue.”

He waved at them with a warm smile. “Goodbye, Dana Salazar. Come back soon with your sweet daughter, alright?”

“Of course.”

Nina licked her ice cream, savoring the flavour of chocolate raspberry on the tip of her tongue. The richness was comparable to chocolate frogs, which reminded her— 

“Mama, can we get my chocolate frog now?”

She laughed as they weaved around a larger redheaded family. “I just got you ice cream!” 

“Well, for after! I want to get one for Cass as well!” Nina pouted. “He didn’t get any treats because he was shopping with Papa the entire day!”

“Nina, your brother likes treacle fudge and you know it.” Looking around, Mama sighed. “I have an idea that your father and Cassian are done now, sweetheart. Maybe next time, alright?”

“Fine.”

They made their way to Ambrosi Alley, where they were going for dinner as well, where Papa and Cassian were standing there. A trolley of Cassian’s things were beside them, and Papa was glowing with pride as he looked at Cass’ wand.

“Dana, Nina, you’re finally here! We were waiting for a very long time, you ought to be faster next time around.” He took a glance over at Nina, who was glad that she finished her ice cream before seeing Papa, who would have been cross that she had a treat. “Cassian over here has gotten himself a wand fit for a Slytherin. On the first try, too!”

“Really?” Mama smiled at Cassian. “Dear, what wand did you get from Ollivander’s?”

Cassian opened his mouth to reply, but Papa cut in, boasting quite proudly, “Beech wood, dragon heartstring, 11 and a half inches, and flexible.”

Beech wood. One of the most coveted of wand woods, best matched with a wizard or witch well beyond their years. Highly illustrious, sought after for being one of the most powerful wand woods with many witches and wizards vying after the richly hued wand wood, only to be improperly matched. However, when properly matched, a beech wand is capable of a subtlety and artistry not seen in any other wand wood.

Nina studied wand woods with Cassian at the request of Papa to ‘choose the right wood when the time comes’. Of course Cassian would get beech, even if he couldn’t control it. What Papa wants, Papa would get. 

And that was the way things were in the Salazar-Rosier bloodline.

 _A good pure-blood girl does not challenge her head of house_.

* * *

“Nina?” 

She looked up from her book to see Cassian at the threshold of her doorway and shut it closed, smiling at him.

“Yes?” She watched him stand there awkwardly before chuckling. “You can come in, you know. You never had to ask before, and although you’re leaving tomorrow, it doesn’t mean you have to now.”

He shut her door and made his way to her bed to sit down beside her, chewing his lip. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” she shrugged, placing the book on her bedside table. “What about?” 

“Anything.” She arched her eyebrow in disbelief and he sighed, running a hand through his neat brown locks. “Alright then, what happens when I’m gone.”

She frowned. “Cassian, you make it sound like you’re dying! You’re not, you’re just going to the best school in the world to learn how to control something you’re already incredibly gifted at. You’ll be fine.”

He stared out the double french doors, which led to her balcony and overlooked the magnificent view of Dragonrose Den’s estate, his shoulders slumped in defeat. _Weird._ It was so unlike him. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about.” He sounded ominous.

“Then what did you want to talk about?” she asked, watching him get up and stand in front of the balcony. “Perhaps it’s just the usual, but even then I would like to know! It’s peculiar seeing you like this, you know? All sullen and brooding.” She clenched her fists. “You should be glad you’re going. You get to escape from all of this!”

“I know!” he exclaimed, turning back around to her. His ice blue eyes were glassy and red, so unlike his well-composed self, which worried her. “Nina, I know that I’m leaving! Father mentions it every night at dinner, Maman talks to me before she tucks me in, and you— you speak so nonchalantly about it I wonder if you’re even going to miss me!”

Her mouth dropped open. “Of course I’m going to miss you, you’re my brother and the only friend I have in this hellish manor!” She felt the tears well up in her eyes and she blinked them away furiously. “You don’t think I think about the fact that you’re gone to bloody _Scotland_ for the rest of the year? How when Mama and Papa fight, you won't be here? When the dreadful tutor comes, you won’t make a joke? Cass, it’s all I think about right now!”

“It’s not just you I take care of, you know.” Nina looked back up at him. “It’s Maman as well.”

Nina felt her blood grow cold as she registered his words. Cassian took care of Mama too? She straightened her back when she realized she slouched during her fight, taking a deep breath to calm down her nerves. “Why?”

“Why?” Cassian laughed, something so bitter and beyond his years, unlike himself yet so Cassian. It frightened her to think that Cass was becoming something he was not before, like he had aged and became wiser than his age, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “I don’t know if you know, but Father hurts Maman a lot. Sometimes physical, sometimes with spells, and someone always has to clean up the mess. You would know, wouldn’t you? That is your first act of definite magic afterall.”

“Of course I know!” she blurted out. “You don’t think that they fight about me? It was obvious then, obvious now. What I don’t understand is why you’re acting like this on the last day before you’re gone for the rest of the year!”

Cassian walked towards the bed, and slumped beside her. He put his head in his hands, shuddering a little, before looking up at her. She took his hand and squeezed it once. _Reassurance_. 

“I can’t protect you when I’m gone,” he admitted. “I won’t be able to take care of you when you’re hurt, hold your hand when you’re sick, and—”

“—shield me from Papa?” Cassian’s eyes widened in surprise as she rolled her eyes. “Cass, I’m not a child. I don’t need protecting. He won’t hurt me when you’re gone.”

“He won’t,” he said firmly, “because I’m going to be the best pure-blood Rosier heir there is at Hogwarts. I’ll be in Slytherin, make the quidditch team, become a prefect, then Head Boy. That's the only way.”

She bit her lip and wrung her hands, scooting closer to him. “You can’t be someone you’re not just to please him, y’know? If you get sorted to Ravenclaw, he’ll be fine as well— anything but Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. If it makes you happy, he’ll be fine.”

“Nina, you know that’s not true. The only way to make him happy is to be in Slytherin, be the perfect pure-blood heir, be a good Rosier.”

“How do you know that, huh? Is it _insinuated_ , did you just feel like he would be bloody angry that you wouldn’t be in the green and silver? You can’t mess with the next seven years of your life just because you read between the lines!”

“It’s been brought up since we were young, Star. You were raised into it as well, but if you really want proof, then fine!” He summoned a parchment from her desk into his hand and started tearing at it, a destressing method he did when the tutor wasn’t looking. “When we were shopping for my supplies at Diagon Alley, Father just _happened_ to mention what it would be like at Hogwarts. What Slytherin would be like, and _how_ Maman is going to be treated if I don’t comply. I have a feeling he will give you the same talk when the time comes.”

“He won’t hurt Mama.” Nina remembered the way Mama smiled at Diagon Alley when talking to the muggle, saying hi to half-bloods, and starting conversations with blood traitors. She knew that no matter what they did, it wasn’t true. Papa loved to hurt those who didn’t fit in his mold, be that perfect piece in his twisted puzzle, and never thought more about it. Through all of his children’s attempts to protect their mother, a Salazar at that, they always failed. Always. “I won’t let him.”

A wry smile made its way onto Cass’ face. “You don’t believe a word you just said.” Nina met his stare and challenged him, trying to look all the more convincing to the person who knew her better than anyone. “Just… whatever happens, take care of Maman.” 

She pursed her lips, tempted to say no, nothing is going to happen to her, but the look of utter defeat on Cassian's face made her change her mind. "I will."

* * *

King’s Cross seems too big as Nina walked through, Mama holding her hand on her right, and Cass strolling beside her in a new cashmere green sweater on her left. Cassian’s elf Poppy pushed the trolley containing his things, including a beautiful eagle owl she affectionately named Hermes, and went behind them.

Papa was in the front, looking in disgust at the oddly dressed muggles, from a tall, thin lady with a ghastly flower dress, a portly man with a pipe of smoke in his mouth, and a small boy selling newspapers. As if compelled, the muggles moved away from them, Papa looking smugly as he pointed at the clock. “Well, hurry up you three! It’s almost eleven!”

The threshold of Nine and Three Quarters looked daunting as she stood in front of it— almost like if you were to run right through it, you would hit the wall. But Nina was not a mere muggleborn, no, she was a pure-blood and knew it acted like a barrier to the Hogwarts Express. Cassian looked apprehensive as he stared at him.

“My boy, you go ahead. Run through the barrier.” 

Cass looked towards her. “Want to run it with me?”

She grinned, taking his hand. “Yes!” They walk quickly at first, before picking up speed to full on sprinting. Going through the barrier was unlike anything Nina had thought, because it felt like nothing. One second, they were in bustling, grey muggle King’s Cross, and the next, they were on the beautiful, vibrant Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

Mama, Papa, and Poppy popped through after them, the poor house elf teetering a little before steadying the cage that held Hermes. The platform itself was full of anxious parents and excited children, the bustle much more prominent than that of King’s Cross.

“Oi, Rosier!” Cass and Nina turned to see Fabian Avery and Hugo Travers make their way over to them, their parents briskly behind them. Mr. Avery and Mr. Travers nod at Papa, who goes over to them after a pat on Cassian’s back.

“Are you excited?” Travers is blonde, not quite as pale as a Malfoy, but with hair the colour of straw. His eyes are watery green like the lake near the chateau in France, and pronounces his words carefully, as if he would often mess up. “Father says that we best be getting on the train quickly before all of the compartments are taken!”

“Wouldn’t want to be stuck sitting with a sniveling mudblood at that,” Avery snorted in that horrid, nasally way of his. His vest was wrinkled and auburn hair unkempt as he attempted to fix it, ignoring Nina, who rolled her eyes at him. “My house elf already put my stuff away, I reckon yours did as well.”

Cassian nodded. “She did. I’ll be right there, give me a minute.”

He turned to Papa, who clapped his back. “Make the Rosier name proud, son. I know you will, I have every faith that you’ll fit right into Slytherin.”

“Yes sir.” As almost an afterthought, something not entirely thought out, Cassian added. “I’ll miss you.”

Papa gave him a rare semblance of a smile and ruffled Cass’ hair before turning back to the older Travers and Avery. Cassian turned to Mama, who had tears in her brown doe eyes and hugged her. She clutched onto him, sniffling as he held her tighter, nodding as she whispered something into his ear. “I will, Maman. Goodbye.”

Mama pulled away from the hug, taking the handkerchief Cassian offered and dabbing her eyes as she replied, “Of course my darling. Goodbye, I know that you’ll do great things at Hogwarts.”

When he turns to Nina, he freezes. Something in his eyes screamed grief and sorrow and pain, but also happiness and joy and excitement. She stared at him, already feeling the tears well up in her eyes as she took a step forward and gave him a big hug. “I’m going to miss you, you know?” she said, the sobs already building up in her throat. “I’m going to miss you so, so much, but I know that you’re going to be absolutely brilliant.”

“I’ll miss you too Star,” he whispered back. Cassian is warm and solid and feels like home, something so familiar that it just hit her now that he’ll be _gone_. In a few minutes, he’ll board the Hogwarts Express and not be back until Christmas. As if he could hear her thoughts, he added, “I’ll write to you every week, alright? You’ll get to see Hermes fly through your bedroom window and know that I’m with you, even when I’m not.”

She nodded her head, feeling her tears soak into his brand new sweater. “Alright. I’ll do what you asked, you know. I’ll make sure everything is good at home when you come back.”

There are tears in Cass’ eyes too, and even though he may be perfect and annoying and overbearing, he is still Cassian and he’s going to be gone. “Thank you, Star.”

When he let go, Nina wanted to clutch back onto him and beg him to stay, to not leave her with Mama and Papa and the big, empty house. At her core, however, Nina is a good pure-blood girl, and they do not _beg_ when something does not go their way, no, they just let it happen. So she watched as Cassian took one last look at the small Rosier family before heading off with Avery and Travers.

She wanted to run when the train started, to try and catch them to stop it from leaving, but she stayed in her place and watched as the brilliant red of the Hogwarts Express left Platform Nine and Three Quarters, leaving Nina behind.

At that moment, even though Cassian was just there, she had never felt more alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's the second chapter! i want to thank you for all of your comments, kudos, and bookmarks— they never fail to make me smile and want to write more :)) so like usual, let me know what you think in the comments, what i can improve on, and what you liked! mwah!


	3. in a cold empty manor

The first month without Cassian was hard.

Nina didn’t know what to do with herself— she would be reading a book, find a line she liked, and go tell Cassian about it, only to remember that he was thousands of kilometers away in Scotland learning more than she ever did reading her books. Sometimes, she would sneak down to the kitchen to grab something to eat, spot a treacle tart, and suddenly, she wasn’t hungry anymore.

Mama tried her best to keep her company, but it wasn’t the same. They would go to Diagon Alley together, shop for new robes or books, then go for lunch. There were conversations about common interests (the newest book from Bathilda Bagshot, a meal they liked here and there that the house elves needed to make at the manor, the opera about the kidnapping of Persephone) but they were dry. It couldn’t compare to the silly little jabs about their tutor, theories on why Mr. Crabbe was turning orange at his roots, or ways to prank said tutor. 

She got through it eventually. Soon after he left for Hogwarts, they received a letter from Cass telling them that he was sorted into Slytherin. As expected, Papa was ecstatic, throwing a party while Nina was ‘excused’ early on, feigning illness to write back. Hermes sat perched on her windowsill, hooting at the full moon that night, while she tried to figure out what to reply.

 _Dear Cassian_ , she started, before scratching it out. It sounded too formal, nothing she would write to her older brother and only friend at that. 

_Cass,_ she tried again. It was simple, nothing too formal and personal enough with his nickname. _Congratulations on being sorted in Slytherin! I know that you will do exceptionally in all your future endeavors, and bring pride to our house._

She winced. ‘Future endeavors’? ‘Pride to our house’? It was like she was writing to Grandmère, all formal, stiff, and a little complicit. She gritted her teeth as she crossed the last line out. _Papa was close to jumping up and down in excitement when he heard the news, he is incredibly proud! Mama was happy for you too. They’re holding a party in your honour to celebrate you being sorted into Slytherin, even though you aren’t even here. As you may have already guessed, I am currently ‘ill’ and in my room writing to you._

The words just poured out of her, nearly like talking to him face-to-face, and not through a piece of parchment being delivered by his owl to be read in his dorm late at night. It felt nice letting it all out, telling him about how the tutor split his robe in half after Nina tripped him, how Poppy seems to miss him and tend to his room almost religiously, and that the treacle tart recipe at home was improving. 

It hit her right then on how much she missed him. It was terribly lonely without him, in a large manor with too little people living in it. The manor was not a home. It was not warm, reassuring, and something that will always make her feel better by being in it. It was chilly, distant, and no matter how many rooms there were, family portraits painted and hung, rooms redecorated to the owner’s exact specifications. 

Home was a feeling. A sense of sort. Nina felt at home with Mama, who never failed to soothe her and make sure she was alright. A burning hearth that was always there to guide you back to where you belong— no, where you long to be. Mama was everything to Nina and she loved her dearly— but Cassian was her entire world.

Cassian was her home, the only one who truly understood her and related to her in this barren manor. Someone there to laugh with, cry with, and just share everything with not just because of circumstance— they may have been two Rosiers— but because of love. Now, with him gone, it was like another piece of her had left on the Hogwarts Express in a blur of blood red and smoke. 

She didn’t realize she was at the end of the parchment until she accidentally wrote on her desk. She signed in the corner _Your sister, Nina_ , before concentrating on that spot of ink. Her magic had become stronger— it arranged her books in the way she liked it, cleaned up after her, and muted the library when her parents fought. It opened the balcony doors when she was too hot, grabbed food for her without needing to summon Tilly, and worked to her utmost convenience. So when the splotch of ink was gone, she smiled in satisfaction, but nothing more. There was no one there to impress.

She rolled up the parchment and tied it to Hermes’ leg, who cooed when she ran her hand on his head. “Give this to Cass, alright?” she told him gently, feeding him a bit of bread. “Let him know that I miss him.”

The little owl flew off into the night sky, becoming a little speck before disappearing almost entirely. Nina stood on the terrace, staring at the spot the eagle owl flew off to longingly. She wondered what her brother was doing at the moment, while she was in her bedroom ignoring the party thrown in his favour.

Maybe he was eating in the Great Hall with his other housemates, laughing a joke Travers made at the expense of a muggleborn, talking to some of their cousins (the Rosiers were related to half of the wizards and witches due to inbreeding) and listening to Professor Dumbledore’s nutty nonsense words. Hogwarts seemed to be much more fun than the empty Rosier manor, full of life and mysteries.

Nina and Cassian had discovered most of the secrets of Dragonrose Den by the time Nina was eight and Cassian was ten. From secret passageways leading to the Black House, panic rooms when the house was under attack by rogue wizards (although Great-Great Aunt Rosier was a faithful servant of Grindelwald), and chambers where they most likely hid the bodies back in the old days, Dragonrose Den held no more secrets for Nina to uncover.

She sighed as she exited the balcony, shutting it closed before collapsing on her bed. She groaned as she heard the chatter down below, the party still going strong. She toyed with the idea of going downstairs, pretending to enjoy the party for a bit so she wouldn’t be alone, but firmly rejected the idea. Nina was not the most social person. She was shy, which most people thought as meek, but her quietness allowed her to blend in the background when she wanted to.

There was a soft knock on the door, most likely Mama checking up on her, to which she remarked, “I’m fine Mama, but I think I won’t be joining the party. Enjoy it though, you can tell me about the fashion fails tomorrow at breakfast.”

“Um, I’m not your mother.” Ashlyn Caswell opened the door, looking a little sheepish. “I just noticed that you left the party early, something about you being ill, and I just wanted to check up on you. You know, make sure that you’re alright.”

Nina gave her a tight smile, getting off her bed to dust herself off. “Well, as I said before, I’m fine. You can go back to the party now.”

She arched an eyebrow as Ashlyn did the exact opposite, walking into the room instead of out. “The party’s boring anyway, the only people I really know are you, Evan, and Howie.”

“Then go talk to one of them,” Nina said, sizing the girl up. They knew each other, talked to each other through the various mandatory social gatherings in the elite pure-blood society. They’ve been to balls together and watched as Mr. Goyle got utterly wasted on firewhiskey more times than Nina could count, but they were not friends. Nina Rosier was not friends with many people, the only ones being Cass, Lola, and Mama. Ashlyn Caswell was merely an acquaintance. “As you can see here, I’m busy.”

“Doing what?” The words were more biting than the redhead had intended, but she persisted. “From what I’ve seen in the past five minutes, you’ve been lying on your bed. Howie and Evan are Merlin knows where, and I’m bored.”

“There are other girls at this party,” Nina countered, “I’m sure you can find another one of them to talk to, someone actually interested in what you have to say.”

Ashlyn laughed. “You’re so eager to be alone, you know that?” Nina opened her mouth to say something, but she continued. “Just because Cassian is gone now does not mean you should shy yourself away from everyone else. We’re going to be at Hogwarts together in two years, and we might as well get familiar, maybe even become friends. For all we know, we could be in the same house and even roommates.”

“I would hate that.” Nina noted the flinch, but ignored it. _When will people realize that she wants to be alone?_ “It’s not you— if anyone else came through that door and did what you did, I would be like this to them too. However, in Dragonrose Den, there is something called _personal space_. Perhaps you don’t know what that is, but here, the manor is big enough for us to all live and never see each other. You should try it someday.”

She made sure to tilt her chin up in that haughty sort of way Aunt Druella did whenever she saw someone she didn’t like— which was almost everyone, especially Uncle Cygnus. It seemed to have its intended effect, making Ashlyn shrink up. “Well then, since you _insist_ , I suppose I can grant you your much-needed _alone time_.” She turned towards the door, before looking back, a smirk on her lips. “I bet, however, that you’ll be so bored that you’ll beg me to come back to give you company.”

Nina rolled her eyes. “Sure, and when that day comes, I’ll allow you to pick a book out of my personal collection.”

The other girl giggled. “Well then, you better read _The Dark Arts: A Legal Companion_ as much as you can. I’d hate for you to miss it when it’s gone.”

The door slammed shut and Nina sighed in relief, padding over to her closet. She grabbed her nightgown and chucked off her gastly party clothes, slipping the much more comfortable garment on. She concentrated hard as her hair wove into a loose chignon, out of her face.

She sat back down on her bed and summoned _The Dark Arts: A Legal Companion_. Not because she thought Ashlyn was going to win, but because she was thinking about it prior to the conversation (she did not).

* * *

The thing about Grandmère was that she was a very proud woman. 

She and Grandpère were arranged to be married long ago— insisting that it was her choice to marry him and hers alone, because being a Rosier was the best choice of all— and turned her from a Greengrass overnight. 

Papa took after Grandmère more than he’d like to admit. They both had that haughty lilt in their voices, the proud stance they took whenever they felt the need to belittle someone, and the dark hair. Grandpère was tall, blonde, with the icy Rosier eyes Papa and Cass both had. He was quiet, however, and not nearly as terrible and cruel as his wife. 

Grandpère adored Mama. He was the one who insisted on matching Papa and Mama together, the one who thought that if anyone could make his son more open, it would be Dana Salazar. She often told Nina that he was a very kind man, someone who was accepting of everyone— he even tolerated Mudbloods— and that was why Grandmère hated him.

For her husband was kind to everyone, did not look down on even the filthiest of blood, and therefore, he drew close to being a blood traitor. Of course, the concept itself of a _Rosier_ being a blood traitor was absurd. Why would someone born into the most noble of families ever speak like that? To turn your back so callously on the society that saved the Wizarding World— the idea was unfathomable.

Blood traitors were, well, the worst people in the Wizarding World. They openly reject blood purity, and worse of all, _support_ Muggle-borns, and actively campaign for them. There were few families that did, the honour of being the elite of the elite usually helped keep many of them. But the ones who did were considered just as bad as Mudbloods, if not worse.

Grandpère did not openly sympathize with Muggle-borns, a miracle in itself, but he did not openly spit on them and hex them (many other pure-blood elite did not in public, but in the privacy of their own homes, well…). His children took after their mother in more ways than his, and when Aunt Druella, with her features taking after her father almost completely, married Cygnus Black, there was no surprise. Grandmère had been campaigning for that match as soon as she saw that he was eligible. 

Nina did not remember much about the man. He had died when she was very young, his wife having found him cold in his favourite chair, dragontear infused wine in hand. The funeral was nothing of note, but she remembered the after effects.

Grandmère had moved into her chateau in France, away from London’s wizarding society to talk to her pure-blood elitist friends in Paris. Papa inherited the study and had it redecorated within days of the funeral. The Rosier portraits remained, but Grandpère’s was shrouded, as if Papa did not want to talk to his father. 

However, Mama did, lifting the cover off the portrait to talk to her father-in-law every other week— sometimes about the most trivial things, sometimes about the latest gossip or the next husband of Alessandra Porter. It was once again then where Nina often reflected that she did not know her mother as well as she had prided herself on, but said nothing.

If she did, Papa would have gotten the portrait removed altogether, leaving Mama even more alone that she already was in the cold, empty manor. 

So when her grandmother (Grandmère, not Lola, because she was allowed entrance of Dragonrose Den whenever she pleased) flooed in on a Wednesday morning, Nina knew she was in for the worst week of her life. 

Her ‘lessons’ from Grandmère lasted a week at most, always on the training of how to be a good pure-blood girl. She learned how to walk in impossibly tall shoes, how to look _just_ innocent enough, coquettish almost, how to properly sip tea from her glass, and anything else deemed necessary to a pure-blood Rosier girl. 

“Oh, _petite-fille_ , we have our work cut out for us.” the older woman narrowed her amber eyes, assessing her once over. _Petite-fille_ may be an endearment to the once-looker, but to anyone else, it was derogatory. Sure, it meant granddaughter, but digging the surface deeper, it also meant little girl. Her tongue clicked in distaste as she took note of Nina’s dress, a little crumpled from reading earlier. “Cassian being gone is no excuse to act like a half-blood, _oui_? A Rosier does not _mope_. You are lucky I am here, you would be a mess otherwise!”

The accent was thick and heavy, her time spent in France causing her to enunciate her words to be a little more clear. It didn’t matter if she did— Nina was fluent in both French and English at the insistence of said woman, and therefore could understand her as clear as day. “Oui Grandmère. Bienvenue.”

“Nina, you need to try harder than that.” Grandmère looked unimpressed, her eyes raining daggers on her. Nina shrank a little, but refused to back down entirely. A Salazar does not shy away when stepped on. “Try to look a little more… unlike yourself. Widen your eyes, look a little more _juvénile_. _Mon dieu,_ you look like your mother, all _vieille et déplorable_. Try to have a little more life in you.”

She nodded once more, making sure to widen and bat her eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered as she stared through them at her grandmother, who didn’t look happy (but she never did), but was not wearing a look of utter disgust and disappointment on her face. “Oui Grandmère.”

“ _Bon, petite-fille_ ,” the older woman said, a hint of something akin to pride in her voice. It was better than the face she made when she saw, per say, a blood traitor or mudblood, or what Cassian affectionately called the look of someone who stepped in shite. “ _Alors,_ we must move onto your ballroom dancing. I have brought you a dancing partner from Paris! _Il est pur, cherie._ ”

She managed a fake smile as the boy walked in, dressed to the nines in elegant green silk and velvet. His hair was slicked back in that pompous way young pure-blood boys had done it when they discovered how to portray their personality through hair. He was around her age, perhaps a year older, and was obviously a grandson of one of Grandmère’s pure-blood elitist friends.

“Nina, this is Marius. He will be attending Beauxbatons next year, and is a distant cousin of the Malfoys.” Nina grasped onto the training from Grandmère as she tried to flutter her eyelashes and look all the most innocent and pure. It wasn’t hard— she was nine years old, and she had no business being with him. Most matches that were harder to make often had the girl be much younger than her suitor, but Nina should have no trouble making one. At least, not for a while. 

Marius nodded at her, not looking the slightest bit interested in her. She let a sigh of relief out as he looked away, staring at his own nails. Grandmère instructed her to place her hand in his and the other around his neck, assuming the ballroom dancing position. His other went to her waist, but his grey eyes were trained behind her, almost bored. “Good, good. Now, _un deux trois, un deux trois—_ ”

The classical music started with a wave of her hand. Nina drowned out Grandmère’s voice, Marius’ uncomfortable stance, and swayed to the lovely lilt of the piano. The soft rhythm carried throughout as she continued to dance, closing her eyes in the process to connect with the music. 

Music was a sort of freedom for her. The way the soft staccato of the waltz played throughout the song was soothing, breathtaking almost. It flowed throughout the room almost seamlessly, the Rosier ballroom seeming to fill with life. The flowers seemed to bloom from their vases and the light filtering in the room seemed to be brighter.

“Nina! Pay attention!” Grandmère’s grating voice snapped her out of her lull and she opened her eyes. The ballroom seemed to almost… wilt, as the music in the background has stopped. She murmured under her breath, so quiet that she nearly missed it, “ _Petite idiote._ ”

She sighed as she repositioned herself in the correct ballroom dancing stance. This was going to be a long week.

* * *

A week later, when Nina ordered Tilly to wrap _The Dark Arts: A Legal Companion_ in a nice sheet of parchment, it’s not because she’s bored. Really, she was the furthest thing from bored— the manor had many things to do, so many books to read, panic rooms to explore— but she was at her wits end with Grandmère.

So, when she turned up at the Caswell’s doorstep, package in hand, as Ashlyn smirked at her, Nina did not feel the tiniest bit of regret (perhaps embarrassment, but she was not bored, therefore Ashlyn was not right). She simply handed her the book, a little smile on her face as she said, “Are you free?”

The grin Ashlyn gave her as she welcomed her inside was almost enough.

* * *

Cassian came home from Hogwarts for his first Christmas back wearing his black robes. The Slytherin crest was emblazoned proudly on his left, the tie neatly done as he walked, no, _strolled_ towards them. 

Poppy had gotten his things and was currently pushing them on a cart, stumbling over the shoes of the patrons. Platform Nine and Three Quarters was filled with sniffling parents and children who ran into their arms and hugged them tight.

Her brother did not do so. He was a pure-blood heir— it would be improper to run like a child. Or, at least, that was what she told herself as Cassian grinned to his many friends— Travers and Avery hung on him like flies stuck to a wall— before waving them off to meet his family. She could not stop starting at him as he did so— during those four months, something had changed.

“Mother, Father,” he greeted as he finally freed himself from his friends (groupies, as Mama would later say), “I missed you both so much.”

Mama sniffled as she pulled Cassian into a tight hug, kissing him on the head as she gripped him close. He patted her gently on the back, almost in a pseudo reassuring way, before handing her yet another handkerchief. “It’s very good to see you, Mother.”

Nina noted that Cassian did not call Mama ‘Maman’ as he usually did, but did not think more of it. She also noted the way he seemed detached, like he left some piece of himself back at the castle. She once again ignored it, unable— unwilling, more like it— to see the signs. He turned to her, giving her a warm smile as he drew her into a hug, nearly shocking the air out of her. “I missed you Star.”

She hugged him back tightly and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “I missed you too, Cass.”

When they apparated back, Cassian had immediately gone up to his room, closing the door gently. “I’m going to unpack,” he announced, as if it was not a job for the house elves to do. Still, Nina did not push. Perhaps he missed Hogwarts and was trying to get some peace and quiet. Perhaps he was feeling unwell from the air of King’s Cross. Perhaps… he didn’t want to spend time with her.

So, she sat in the library reading yet another book— one that Ashlyn recommended. No, they were not friends thank you very much— and waited for time to pass. More specifically, she waited for Cassian to join her by picking up a book and sitting on the sofa across from her. She read for hours, even summoning Tilly for some tea, but he did not join her. She wondered what he was doing, and how it could be better than spending time with the sister he hadn’t seen since he boarded that bright red train.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Cassian was out of the Slytherin robes and in something much more comfortable. He sat the same way— hands folded in his lap, he responded the same way to Papa’s questions and talked to the house elves normally. Yet, as she studied him, she thought something was different about him. Something she could not put her finger on just yet. 

“So, Cassian my boy, how was your first trimester of Hogwarts?” Papa asked as he sipped his wine.

Cassian had a small smile on his face, as if he knew a secret only he was privy to, and folded his napkin in half as he said, “Amazing, Father. It was everything you said and more.”

“Good, good. I presume your grades are top of class? A Rosier is never second place.”

He nodded. “Top of house, top of class. The Ravenclaws can’t compare, and the amount of house points I have gotten for Slytherin in this trimester…”

She blinked as she tried to discern Cassian from his tone of voice and posture. He sounded less like the boy four months ago, and more like a pompous brat— closer to Avery and Travers, if anything. Throughout the dinner, Cassian acted like a stranger. There was little warmth and familiarity in his mannerisms as he sipped his pumpkin juice, cut a piece of his roast, and nodded along to the conversation.

He was acting more and more like Papa.

So on Christmas morning, Nina sat on the couch nearest to the tree nervously, eying the gift she got him. Something she prided most about herself was that she knew Cassian better than any. She knew his favourite hobbies, what ticked him off, what got him excited like no other thing, and what he loved more than anything.

He had padded down the stairs at exactly 9:18 AM, looking not at all blurry-eyed or tired. Normally, he would be yawning, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the residual sleep, but he looked more alive and awake than ever.

Mama clapped her hands when they finally sat down around the grand tree, ornately decorated by Nina— Cassian used to as well, but was at Hogwarts. Papa was there, drinking a steaming mug of tea, surveying over the little family from his favourite armchair. “Gather around, my darlings, open your gifts.”

Cassian got many new things— an expensive new quill for school, many new books, things he got usually, but the gem is when Papa pulled out a long, elegantly wrapped gift. “Just something to look forward to.”

It was the newest broom, a Firebolt, all shiny and immaculate. Cassian was not much of a quidditch fan, but he was elegant on a broom, nimble and swift. He ran his fingers down the broom in awe, as if it would disappear if he did not touch it. They were used to getting expensive gifts, but somehow, in the span of four months, Cassian had gone from being indifferent about quidditch to absolutely adoring it. 

“Thank you Father,” he said. 

Nina bit her lip as she decided whether or not to give him her gift just yet. He was clearly in awe of a broom, something he never really cared for before, and what she got him was something that old Cassian would like. But she mustered up her courage and handed him the simply wrapped gift. “Here,” she whispered, “something I thought you might like.”

He unwrapped it to see _Hogwarts: A History_. It was a book common in every sort, but Nina had spent the months away with Ashlyn tracking down one of the original copies and had it restored. The old notes from Bathilda Bagshot herself were written in the margins, her loopy script a stark contrast to the rest of the book. “I just thought— um, because you’re at Hogwarts, it might be nice to see the castle throughout history? And I know how much you adore old books…”

Cassian did not say anything. He simply stared at the book, unmoving, as Nina felt nervous. He probably didn’t like it. He didn’t like it. It was a stupid gift, why would she give him such a common book? She should have caved and gotten him that Sneakoscope in the form of a watch instead, he would have liked it more—

“I— I love it Star.” She snapped her head back up to stare at him in shock. The book was opened on his lap, the original texts from Bathilda Bagshot herself were visible from where she was sitting. “This is incredibly thoughtful, you got her notes and everything! This makes me feel a little bad about mine.”

She unwrapped it and saw a rolled up piece of parchment. It was a portrait of the astronomy tower, overlooking Hogwarts’ estate. “I— it’s lovely Cass,” she stuttered, unsure of what else to say.

“I guess I wanted you to feel like you’re on the journey with me too. I mean, I know you’ll be at Hogwarts in two years, but I _missed_ you. A lot. And I hope you missed me too.” He shook his head, smiling to himself. “Well, I guess it’s a little stupid…”

“I love it.” She gave him a tight hug, tears welling up in her eyes as she stared at Hogwarts. The rolling fields and trees seemed to flow with a light breeze, the beauty of how green it was. 

And maybe, maybe they’ll be alright.

* * *

Nina sent a care package for Cass on his twelfth birthday, filled to the brim with chocolate frogs, treacle tarts, and a pack of Exploding Snaps. She added a letter wishing him happy birthday and even had Papa sign it with a little message of his own— _Cassian, happy birthday. I hope all is well._

She received a letter from him a week later, starting with a _Dearest Nina, I missed you so much_ , and smiled so much that even Papa noticed her good mood.

She sat in the parlour by the old piano while Ashlyn messed around through her book collection, occasionally asking her to borrow a certain volume. She nodded in agreement, humming to herself. 

“Nina?” she looked up to where the other girl was, who sat at the piano and ran her fingers over it. 

She made her way over to her, scooting over so she could sit. “Yes?”

“Do you know how to play?” Nina blinked as she tried to fit her fingers over the keys. “I don’t, the house doesn’t have a piano at home, but since you do, I thought maybe… you could teach me?”

Nina pressed _e_ , then _d sharp_ , and continued the trill as she started playing the classic _Für Elise_. She learned when she was young, all wide-eyed and curious about the gorgeous instrument in the empty parlour. Lola had taught her how to play, and although she hadn’t touched the piano for years, it all came back to her, as if she never forgot.

And she played. The soft piano crescendoed into forte, almost as if bringing the room to life. She never felt this liberated, as if the world was at her fingertips, until she played. Beethoven’s _Bagatelle No. 5 in A minor_ flowed throughout the parlour, all caused by _her_ and not magic. The way she felt at that moment was something perhaps not even magic could compete with.

When she played the final note, she exhaled slowly. Her hands rested in the chord’s position, but didn’t move. Ashlyn shifted beside her. “Woah. Nina, that was amazing.”

Despite herself, she smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you.” She placed Ashlyn’s hands in a similar position over the keys. “Now, let’s get started, shall we?”

Teaching Ashlyn piano was an easier task than anticipated, the younger girl having a gift with the ivory keys. By the third week, she was able to play works from Bach, Grieg, and even Chopin. It was a little ritual they did together, a hobby they shared beside reading, and a way of communicating that was not through talking.

They weren’t friends yet, but by the time they were sent to Hogwarts, they were closer to each other than anyone else.

* * *

That summer following Cassian’s first year at Hogwarts, they spent it in the Philippines with Lola. She had a vacation home there, far away from the ancient Salazar Manor in Wizarding Shanghai, that overlooked the azure ocean.

Papa spent exactly one week there before leaving, murmuring about some important business he had to take care of. He had a seat at Wizengamot, and was a Very Important member of society. According to him, the Ministry could not last without him and the copious amounts of Rosier gold generously _'donated'_ to it every year.

So Nina sat on the terrace overlooking the waves below, the sun shining on her face as she sipped lemonade. Mama was out spending time with Lola and Lolo, something she hadn’t done in the thirteen years she was married to Papa. She was glowing— happier than she ever was before, away from the cold and grey Dragonrose Den and Wizarding London— and Nina was glad she was able to see her parents.

“Star, what are you doing?” She turned around to see Cassian, dressed in beach shorts and a loose shirt, with sunglasses on his head. He was holding a glass, presumably lemonade or Aag Sarap, a drink they tried from a local food vendor which he fell in love with. 

Nina sat up. “Just watching the waves,” she said. He went to sit beside her, placing his glass on the table in between them. “It’s very beautiful here.”

“It is, isn’t it?” He turned to watch the view, a child laughing as they splashed in the ocean. “Here, it’s different from _la maison au bord du lac_ and the chateau in France. It’s lively. Different. The culture here is much more different than that in Europe.”

She agreed, a small smile playing on her lips as the wind blew her hair. “Do you want to go to the beach with me?” she asked.

“Sure.” 

The sand felt warm between her toes as she squinted at the sun. Cassian took her hand and pulled her towards the waves as Mama watched in the background with her parents. The water was cool, beautiful and clear as they waded further into it. 

“Mother, come join us!” Cassian called. Mama laughed as she ran towards them, their grandparents following soon after, as she wrapped them into a tight hug, kissing their foreheads. There were tears in her eyes— happy ones, as Mama hadn’t cried a single sad tear since coming here— as her parents joined them.

The waves crashed along the shore as the azure contrasted the white sand, and Nina felt as if she could stay there forever.

Good things don’t always last.

* * *

The next year passed by fairly quickly. Cassian once again left at 11 o’clock sharp on Platform Nine and Three Quarters, waving a less tearful goodbye to his family as he joined Travers, Avery and all his other friends to board the bright red train. 

Nina did not feel as alone as she did the first time he did so, as she watched Ashlyn bid her cousin Evan James a tearful goodbye, hugging him tight before allowing him to say goodbye to Howie. They were very good friends— the Caswells and Selwyns were very close families— and there were rumours that there was marriage talk between Ashlyn and Howie. However, they were only rumours, and Ashlyn vehemently denied any of that sort whenever Nina brought it up.

She asked Papa if it was alright to talk to Ashlyn, which he obliged with a rare smile of his own before waving her off. She jogged towards her friends before taking her hand and squeezing it. “You alright?”

Ashlyn sniffled as she watched Evan James board the train, taking a handkerchief out to dab her eyes. “Yes, I will be,” she sighed. “It’s just hard, seeing him go, when I’m stuck here for another year. I’m going to miss him a lot.”

“Well, you have me,” she told her seriously. “I understand how you feel— I was the exact same way when Cass left for Hogwarts last year, but you really helped. I feel less alone now than I did this time last year.”

The horn blew, signalling that they were about to take off, and a small laugh came from the girl beside her. “Well, I guess you were bored.”

“Was not!”

“You were, or else you wouldn’t have turned up at my doorstep with _The Dark Arts: A Legal Companion._ I knew you loved that book, and that’s why I asked for that one specifically. It was all the most sweet when you gave it to me.”

Nina’s mouth dropped open before retorting, “It was not my favourite book! As you know now, my favourite is _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ , the one I got from Papa that's a limited edition!”

Ashlyn waved it off. “They’re both about the Dark Arts, I was close enough.”

“ _The Dark Arts: A Legal Companion_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ were not the same thing Ashlyn!”

This sort of rapport continued throughout the year, not just about books they enjoyed or the new releases, but also music, where they composed their own songs together and discussed their favourite composers and works.

Nina introduced Ashlyn to Obscurus Books, where she promptly bought out an entire genre about Wizarding Law, and went to get ice cream together at Florean Fortescue's. They spent many days like that, and by the time Evan James arrived home from his first year of Hogwarts, Ashlyn was beaming and laughing at a joke Nina had dryly told her.

But it was July 27th when Nina saw an unfamiliar owl fly through her window, and, expecting it to be her Hogwarts letter— why would it fly through her window if wasn't?— she opened it.

It was not her Hogwarts letter. 

What she read had changed her world for the worst. Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok. hi! this took a very long time for some reason, but it's done! the hsmtmts fandom is kinda crazy rn, but oh well. anyhoo, thanks for your comments, kudos, and bookmarks, they're the reason i write (because i need Validation!). so, as always, let me know what you think in the comments!


	4. standing in the shadows

Nina was dressed to the nines in a silky red blouse and black skirt. 

It’s a beautiful day in Diagon Alley, witches and wizards alike are walking through the Wizarding square, either to shop for the upcoming year or to spend time with their families. The Leaky Cauldron was filled with apprehensive parents and wide-eyed children, all Muggles judging from their faces, and Nina scrunched her nose in disgust as she marched on forward.

Cassian was beside her, walking at a much more even paced speed with his hands folded behind his back as he too took note of the future Hogwarts students, but did a better job hiding his obvious distaste towards them. Papa once again was two steps ahead, leading the way for the small Rosier family, while Mama was beside him.

Nina eyed her mother carefully, as if she would run off right then and there if she blinked for longer than a second. The woman was to not be trusted, her obvious fickleness made her reckless and stupid. “Where to first, darling?” she asked.

She turned to Cassian, who gave her a gentle smile. “I think I want to get my robes first,” she decided. “You don’t have to stay with me right now, Cass, I know you want to see Travers and Avery. I’ll be fine.”

Cassian beamed, sneaking a look over to Papa, who nodded his head, and walked off (it was more of a run, but a pure-blood heir does not run in excitement). Papa then turned to Nina. “I trust that you can get your supplies with your mother?” 

She nodded, a small smile working its way onto her face. “I can. Come Mama, let’s go get my robes now.”

Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions was not a place Nina frequented often; the Rosiers had their own private tailor that made their clothes at the whim of a patron. Grandmère herself had a distaste for shopping where a common Muggle could, and therefore ordered that no Rosier should shop at a public tailor. So, she enlisted a tailor that worked for the family since her marriage to Grandpère, and was still in service today.

The Hogwarts robes were all black. Nina had expected it— Cassian’s were, and the pictures of Papa as a child had clearly depicted it— and she was not distressed when she tried them on. Black complemented her skin tone well, and she wore the colour often. Although the family colours were green, silver, and red, Papa had an affinity for dressing the family in darker colours. He claimed that it made them look more bold and stand out in Wizarding society.

“You are _such_ a gorgeous girl!” Madam Malkin exclaimed while she fitted the robes onto Nina’s small frame. “The robes will look absolutely magnificent on you, with your beautiful long dark hair, and your lashes!”

Nina did not blush at the compliment, merely smiled and said her thanks, just as Grandmère had taught her, and turned her attention to the colourful posters on the wall, one of which said: _Back to school special! Get your Hogwarts robes here!_

The girl beside her did not squirm as uncomfortably as a redheaded Muggle boy did when she got fitted. She was much taller than Nina, with beautiful cocoa coloured skin and dark curly hair. Her teeth were white and straight, a dimple hiding on her right cheek, and her nose sloped elegantly. She was an aristocrat, obvious from the graceful way she carried herself to the way she did not seem uncomfortable over praise.

Later in life, she would be the closest thing Nina ever had to a sister, someone she could share her life with and confide every dirty little secret. She would not be the first friend Nina had outside her family— that honour went to Ashlyn Caswell— but she would be the closest one she’ll ever have. Right now, she stood patiently as the robes were draped on her, occasionally glancing over at her scantily dressed mother for…. something? Validation? Attention? It would be a question she’d ask her many times later in life, to which the answer would always vary.

Almost bored, she turned over to Nina, sticking out her hand in an elegant _swoosh._ “I’m Genevieve Porter. I suppose you’re starting at Hogwarts in September as well?”

Nina eyed the hard, noticing the smoothness and dainty fingers. The name rang in her head, _Porter_ being a name whispered throughout Wizarding society in a dirty sort of way. After a few seconds of deciding whether or not to, she took the hand and shook in gently. “I’m Nina Rosier.”

Genevieve’s eyes widened in shock. _Rosier_ was not a common name— it was one of the founding families of the British Wizarding World, and as a Porter, she had most certainly heard it before. Especially with the reputation her mother had garnered over the years. “Well,” she said haltingly, “it’s nice to meet you Nina Rosier. You can call me Gina.”

Gina’s mother Alessandra Porter had gained a reputation, one almost notorious like a dirty little secret for the pure-blood elite. She was a black widow— married thrice, widowed thrice— and each husband turned up more dead than the last. Coincidentally, each husband was more wealthy than the last, an older pure-blood man with a dying bloodline and mountains of gold within his vault in Gringotts. 

Mama’s social circle, which consisted of the most elite pure-blood wives in all of Wizarding London— people who later in life she would reveal that she could not stand— gossiped about Lady Porter and who she would sink her talons in next time. Gina was the product of her first marriage to Lord Bletchley, who died mysteriously after dinner. He was poisoned, and the loyal house elf who served the family for years had tearfully admitted it and was disposed of. Gina was given her mother’s last name to keep the bloodline from dying, and along with her mother, inherited the copious amount of galleons that belonged to the Bletchleys for centuries.

“Nina and Gina,” she mused, a small smile on her face, “what a pair we make.”

“Oh, Dana _Rosier_!” Alessandra flocked over to Mama quickly, her voice trilling ‘Rosier’ as she went to make conversation with the other woman. There was a time where she and Papa had a relationship, one that was broken off when he was announced to marry Mama. Alessandra was not hostile to her, just a little resentful, and although her life as one of the most beautiful but dangerous pure-bloods in Wizarding London garnered recognition, to be a Rosier was like winning the lottery. “I didn’t know that your daughter is going to Hogwarts this year!”

Mama smiled stiffly. “Well, yes, Nina is going to school this year, the same as Genevieve I suppose. Cassian went two years ago, he’s doing splendidly.”

“Two children, how can you handle it? The thought of sending _my_ Genevieve off makes me teary-eyed, they’re growing up so fast! We _must_ have tea together sometime!” Lady Porter’s smile was sharp, vicious like a snake’s, almost fitting on her features, as if being soft and docile could not do. “And I know that Nina will do well in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. It’s a shame, though, that our daughters won’t be in the same house, with Genevieve going to Slytherin and all.”

Nina stiffened at the reminder of the houses, remembering the techniques Grandmère had taught her to stay calm. Mama, no matter how often she insisted that Nina can choose her often destiny, knew that Lady Porter was baiting her, trying to get a rise of the legendarily calm Lady Rosier. “Well, wherever Nina goes, I know she will succeed. She has it in her _blood,_ you know?”

Gina looked over at her sheepishly, and Nina flicked her eyes from the older Porter to the younger. They were dressed differently, both extremely stylish, but Gina was much more conservative compared to her mother, whose skin was nearly all on display. They were both quiet, sharp, like snakes, and every inch of pure-blood that Nina should be.

She should be threatened. She should resent the fact that a lesser pure-blood, one with a ghastly reputation and questionable blood, was trying to befriend her, but Gina looked at her like she was important. Not because of her bloodline and family, not because of the wealth she must have, but because she was genuinely interested in what Nina had to say and offer. No one, not even Cassian, had listened to her like that.

Gina was graceful and sleek and beautiful, like Cassian in a way. She was miles ahead of Nina, already knowing what she wanted to be, wanted to do, but still paid attention to Nina’s own aspirations and worries about school. She may also be harsh, prickly like a rose, and manipulative in getting what she wanted no matter what the cost, but Nina felt drawn to her. 

The other girl was magnetic, and when Nina got her owl, a snowy white thing that did stood out in the ghastly Eeylops Owl Emporium, she named it Aster almost immediately ( _“Your mum calls you star, so your owl should be named star as well!_ ”). Gina herself got a dark, sleek persian cat named Lady, who was similar to her owner.

Ashlyn would like Gina. She would like the way Gina danced around the square, humming to the latest _Weird Sisters_ song, uncaring of who was watching. She would like the way Gina had her head held high— not in the haughty pure-blood way Nina did— when she skipped around Diagon Alley. But Ashlyn wasn't here now— she was celebrating Evan James' birthday by celebrating the day with him. 

They went to Flourish and Botts next to get their books. As Nina went to open the door, a curly haired boy and his redheaded friend burst through without as much as a _“sorry!”_. She glared at them as they ran through the square as their parents followed closely behind, giving her an apologetic look, but she ignored them.

“The audacity of Muggles,” she muttered as Gina sent her a look. She met Mama’s eyes, who quickly averted them as she went to get her books. 

They were fairly easy to get— many other shops had the very same titles, even that bookshop she and Ashlyn had gone to before the incident did. Still, Nina ran her fingers over the spine in awe, not believing that in a month, she, along with hundreds of others, will board the Hogwarts Express to start their first year of schooling. She and Gina spent a good time nitpicking the books that look the best, and dividing the sections of who gets which for the other.

Ollivanders, however, must be done alone. Gina went in before her, and after a few minutes, came out with a wand of her own; aspen, dragon heartstring, 13 ¾ inches, “rigid and stiff”. Nina eyed it, as if she would get a similar product before even entering the shop. Lady Porter herself spent the time ‘oohing and awing’ over it, leaving Gina to turn quite red.

The shop is dirty, a little busy with boxes of wands displayed on the shelves. The air is thick and dusty, the windows filled with dirt, which covered the floor as well. She stood by the window, staring at the elderly man behind the old desk, Garrick Ollivander himself, who stared right back. His eyes felt as if they were digging into her, trying to decipher every little detail about her.

The Ollivanders were one of the families of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, despite the fact that Garrick Ollivander’s mother herself was a Muggle-born. However, they’ve been making wands for Wizarding London since 382 BC, as one of the acclaimed oldest families, they held quite some weight in their world.

Now, Garrick Ollivander looked at her curiously, his dark eyes following her as she willed herself to stand tall, to not be afraid. The old man got up from his stool and walked forward. “Well, I suppose you aren’t another Black, are you?” he queried, his eyes looking down at her solemnly. “You can’t be a Lestrange, nor a Greengrass. You’re a Rosier, aren’t you?”

Nina swallowed nervously before nodding. “Yes, I am.”

“Your brother came here two years ago, stood in the very spot you are in now. Before that, thirty-eight years prior, your father did as well. And now, the latest Rosier stands here, waiting to get her wand.” He paused. “Well, let’s get started, shall we? Arms up.”

She obliged, raising them as a tape measurer whizzed out his pocket, measuring her arms, face, fingers, and nose— everything relevant in a wand sorting. Nina stood still as she allowed the object to get the necessary measurements, anxious about what could happen. A witch’s wand was her life. Not her power, per say, but an extension of it, a harness. Garrick Ollivander was the best wandmaker in Britain, the Ollivanders a household name, but still, Nina could not help but be nervous.

The tape measurer flew back into his pocket as he asked, “Now, are you right-handed or left-handed?”

“Right,” she replied as she stared out the window. He nodded before he slid into the back.

The sunlight streamed in, almost pouring through in an obnoxious river of light in the dark, dirty shop. It was chilly in there, the coolness making the hair stick up on her arms, despite the warmth of the alley outside. She wished she could be out in the sunshine to feel the warmth on her skin, but getting a wand was the single most important thing to do for a new witch.

Ollivander returned with a stack of boxes, all filled with wands and possibly Nina’s future one. He handed her the top one.

“Pear, unicorn hair, 11 and ⅔ inches, stiff and rigid,” he told her, eying it in her hand warily. “Go on, give it a try.”

Nina closed her eyes and mimicked the wand waving motion Papa did. Nothing happened. “Again,” Ollivander suggested, looking at her and the wand doubtfully. She obliged, trying to create a figure eight with the golden-hued wand, only to rustle the boxes on the ground lightly. 

“Alright then, not the best of results, isn’t it?” he mused, lightly taking the wand from her and handing her another, this one darker in shade. “I think this one may be better. Laurel, phoenix feather, 13 and ½ inches, swishy.”

She tried it again, this time waving a _“c”_ , only to have dark smoke puff out of the wand. Something collapsed behind her, and she closed her eyes, trying to blink out the tears that came from the smoke. 

“Well,” Ollivander coughed, quickly taking the wand from her and placing it back in the box. “Hopefully this one is just right.” He eyed the boxes he brought before heading out back, returning only with a slim, dark box. “I was holding this for quite some time, seeing as no one could truly use it. Since nothing else seems to work for you, we might as well give it a try.”

Nina watched as he took it out of the box, drinking in the sight of it. “Cherry, dragon heartstring, 12 inches precisely, supple.”

When she took the wand in her hand, it felt different than the others she held. It felt as if she didn’t take Mama’s wand to play around and pretend to be a grown up witch for a day, only to produce mere sparks, but real. Unlike the times she played with Cassian, the elegant wand in her hand felt as if it belonged with her. She waved it once, not having a particular motion in mind, and the boxes she crashed before fixed themselves, producing silver sparks after. She watched them then looked back at the wand in her hand, amazed.

“Excellent,” he praised, but his eyes betrayed his surprised expression. Despite that, she beamed. “Now, although I would have pinned you for phoenix feathers or unicorn hair, you would find that dragon heartstring is…. flamboyant. You notice the flowers carved in the handle, those are cherry blossoms, and cherry is a very peculiar wood. It’s capable of great power— lethal, but great. They only pair with witches and wizards—” he looked at her skeptically, “with immense self-control and strength of mind. They don't make bonds lightly.”

“Lightly,” she echoed, “how so?”

He paused, eying her before turning back to preparing her things. “A very lethal wand, excellent for duelling and charms.”

Nina handed him seven galleons before hurrying out the door, staring at the elegantly carved wand. She showed it to Gina, who admired the cherry blossom carvings in the handle before leaving with Lady Porter, who did not glance at her or say goodbye.

Mama nudged her shoulder as they walked away from the wand shop. “Cherry, hm?” She flicked her eyes away from Nina in a far-away look. “I remember back in school, only the witches and wizards with the most prestige could own them. Your Lolo used to scoff at those coveted such a thing, but Lola had once said, _“Only a witch or wizard who possesses this wood will understand the capabilities of it. The immense power is strange, but an art only the owner is privy to.”_ No one at my school owned one at the time, but the headmistress did. She was a very powerful lady, someone I admired growing up.”

She didn’t say anything in return, just stared at her wand and already felt the crushing weight of expectations settle on her. “I need to get some more books, do you think we can stop by Obscurus—”

“No.” Nina whipped her eyes back up to her mother, glaring angrily at her. “How dare you suggest that? If you knew what was best for you, you would not go near that filthy, Muggle shop again!”

Mama deflated, biting her lip in a very unladylike fashion. “It was just a suggestion, I didn’t mean to do anything—”

“If you knew what’s best, you would never see Carol Roberts again,” Nina hissed. “We have more things to worry about than your stupid Muggle.” Mama opened her mouth to say something, most likely in protest, but Nina cut her off. “We’re done. I think we need to meet up with Cassian and Papa, your _husband_ , now.”

And with that, she turned her heel away from her mother, her previous good mood gone.

* * *

_The house has spies._

Mama’s words played back to her, over and over again as if taunting her. 

Nina remembered the day she read the letter more clearly than any other, only because of the terrible things she learned in the course of mere hours.

She had pulled Mama aside privately, when Papa was at a Wizengamot hearing and Cassian was with friends, and showed her the letter. The older woman had got paler than a piece of parchment, and before Nina could say anything, had pulled her into Cassian’s room.

“Be mindful of what you say,” she had hissed, “the house has spies. You never know what will report back to your grandmother and father.”

“Good,” she had sneered, narrowing her eyes at her mother. “Let them know about your torrid affair with a Muggle. And not _just_ a Mudblood, but a _woman_?”

Mama had looked aghast. “Please, Nina, my star, I can explain—”

“Explain what?” She had pulled out the letter, and started reading. “ _Dear Dana, every day without you is more painful than the last. I love you more than all the stars in the galaxy, all the fish in the sea, and all the people on this planet._ Now, I may not already be in school, but this sounds like a love letter to me. May I continue?”

“No!”

She had pinched her lips into a scowl. “Well, too bad. _August 5th at noon sharp sounds perfect. I can’t wait to see you, it’s been so long without you in my arms. Sometimes I wish I could save you, whisk you away where we could be happy and together, not only in secret._ ”

“Nina, stop,” she had pleaded, her eyes filling tears. “Please.”

“ _Yours in heart, body, and soul, Carol Roberts_ ,” she had finished, crumpling the letter up in her hand. “Even if she wasn’t a filthy, dirty Mudblood, this would be impossible. You’re married, and I know it’s not a happy one but your vows say otherwise! And if you weren’t married, do you think they would accept you?”

“That’s why it’s a secret,” she had whispered. “That’s why no one can know, and why I’m begging you to not tell anyone about it.”

Nina had stared at her. “And what if I say no?”

“Please,” she had begged, “I try to not ask for much from you and Cassian, but this is my one chance to be happy and selfish. You know I would do the same for you, my star, but please, let me be happy.”

Nina had paused, unsure of what to say, but against her better judgement, she said, “I will keep your secret. But I don’t approve of any of this. I think you’re making a horrible mistake that will ruin all of us.” She had turned to leave, but had closed her eyes to imagine flames, and when the letter had caught on fire, she had added, “I hope you’ll be able to deal with it.”

What Dana Salazar-Rosier had done would change the course of Nina’s life, but she was willing to do anything to protect her family, and more importantly, her bloodline. 

Her affair with a Muggle woman would be the driving cause of the change in Nina’s fate, something that clouded her decision making forever, and will eventually be something Nina grew to resent. But right now, Nina was willing to protect Mama, and that was all.

After all, a good pure-blood girl will take her bloodline’s secrets to the grave. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, leaving kudos and comments never fail to make me smile. thank you for all your kind words, i really appreciate them <3


	5. like two icebergs

The morning of Wednesday, September 1, 1971, Nina Rosier packed frantically.

She was prepared for school for a very long time now, since that day in July where she got the letter, but sometimes Tilly missed things, like a spare quill or her favourite pair of socks, and she liked to be sure. Leaving small things behind weren’t a big deal to most — their parents could always owl them to Hogwarts — but Nina hated being unprepared, and therefore double and triple checked all of her things. Just to be sure, of course.

“You know you don’t need to do that,” Cassian stated, leaning against the door frame of Nina’s bedroom. His dark hair was lazily swept, and his pyjamas were wrinkled.

Nina scrunched her nose at that note, looking down at her own clothes, which were pressed and fresh. They were new, of course, since Papa insisted that she look her best for the first day of school; not that it mattered though, because she would be dressed in her brand new school robes from Madame Milken’s soon enough, and no one cared about what she wore on the train. Still, her dark dress was neat, with roses framing the bottom of the skirt.

“ _You_ know that you need to be dressed soon,” she retorted, eying her reflection in the mirror to see if her hair was still tidy. “We need to be there before 11, and although Papa loathes it, we cannot Apparate to King’s Cross.”

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair carelessly. “It doesn’t take me long to get dressed.” Nina nodded while neatly smoothening out her bedsheets. “You know we have house elves for a reason, right Star? It’s not just because Father likes to keep around vermin.”

“They’re not vermin!” She glared at him. “They… _work_ for us.”

He snorted. “They don’t get paid, either. But it’s alright, they’re nice, helpful even. Make the best treacle tarts. Still, we know that wizards are the superior race.”

“Did Papa’s _wizard superiority_ finally get to you? Or did your horrid lackeys Travers and Avery?”

He paused, looking at her rather strangely. “You agree with that as well.” His voice was tight, and he sounded like he was accusing her. She swallowed and met his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’ve become a Mudblood sympathizer.”

“I’m not,” she snapped. “But I don’t think that blood traitor Dumbledore will allow anti-Muggle talk around _his_ school. Slughorn may turn a blind eye, but it doesn’t mean he will.” Her voice dropped an octave. “You don’t want anyone to get caught, do you?”

“Of course not.” His tone was clipped, a little cold even. “You don’t think I’m _stupid_ , do you?”

“I don’t. You need to be careful, Cassian, you know that.”

He mustered a smile, a little sharp with too much teeth. Cassian could lie and cheat and scam and trick just about anyone, a perfect Rosier heir to anyone who understood, but Nina grew up with him. She knew his little tricks, his little cons, things no one else could ever pick up on, and she knew when he was lying. He couldn’t lie to her. Not anymore. 

“I’m going to get ready now,” he said slowly, eying her cautiously as she fluffed the last pillow on her bed. “I’ll see you when we’re about to leave.”

She tilted her head in acknowledgement, and he swept out of the room without a word. Nina tidied the last of her room, even managing to work charms that she learned from Cassian’s old textbooks and random books she snuck from Papa’s study into making the process faster. She was going to be the best Rosier witch since Great-Great Aunt Rosier, who learned most of her tricks from Grindelwald himself, perhaps even better.

No one was going to stop her, not Papa and his deep hatred for her ties to the Salazar bloodline, not Cassian who was getting more and more distant, closer to Papa than ever, and especially not Mama, who dug her own grave the second she decided to befriend, and _laughably_ fall in love with the filthy Mudblood.

She was Nina Rosier, descended from one of the oldest French wizarding families and the most esteemed Asian family, with a deep drive for power that her father and brother and every Rosier before her had, but the control and balance every Salazar had before her. She was sharp, quick, tenacious, and will never be underestimated again, never pushed into those ugly shadows of shame and disappointment. 

She was a good pure-blood girl, sure, but she will not allow anyone to pass her just to be a good _lady_. No, she will be everyone else and _prove_ that she is not the weakling, not just a _girl_ , not the _spare_. 

A Salazar-Rosier was unparalleled by all.

* * *

“Are you sure you got everything?” Mama asked. It was 10:30, and they needed to be at King’s Cross soon. Nina was not keen on being late for her first year at Hogwarts.

Nina nodded irritably as she eyed the grand clock. “For the last time, yes Mother, I did.”

“I just want you to be prepared,” her mother sniffed, dabbing her eyes gently with the handkerchief. “It’s just…. _my baby!_ Going off to Hogwarts! You are truly growing up now.”

She swallowed, thinking about when Cassian himself was in her position, all ready and so very truly grown up. Mama once told her when she was younger about an initiation every Salazar daughter went through when they turned eleven. A series of etiquette courses, hand-to-hand combat, poison making, and lastly, a duel, was what deemed a girl as “worthy”. The men may be powerful and tall, with strong builds and large muscles with calloused hands, but the women were warriors. They were not some prize to be won, no, they forged their own paths.

Mama did not. She could not. The Rosiers came in when she was sixteen, of age in the Wizarding World during her coming of age ball, with a marriage contract in tow. She was lured in with promises of a strong bloodline, and a forever alliance with one of the most prominent families in Europe, something that would be rude to refuse. She had no choice in the matter, no freedom when she moved far, far away from her parents.

Maybe Mama deserved to be happy, even if it wasn’t with Cassian and Papa and _her_. Maybe the Muggle-born was worthy of her. But the effects of said tryst would be detrimental to both the Rosier and Salazar reputation. Nina could not afford that. Not with the precarious state of the Wizarding World and the pure-blood society.

“Thank you,” she responded stiffly, unsure of what to do. She looked around the foyer of Dragonrose Den, her home since she was a small child, and thought about the fact that she won’t see it until Christmas. But she won’t miss it.

The manor was cold, foreboding, and devoid of happiness and the true makings of a home. Nina was waiting to get out of the house since Cassian left for his first year of Hogwarts. And she was finally free.

Or so she thought.

* * *

King’s Cross was not any different from the many times she went there to drop Cassian off.

Like always, Muggles bustled around in their drab clothing, some reading the paper, others looking at the time on their wrist watches, and were utterly disgusting. It was like they were in the zoo — surrounded with filthy animals that slobbered and were easily pushed over with the smallest touch; just another reason why the wizarding kind were superior. She narrowly avoided a briefcase swung by a distracted Muggle, talking loudly to his companion.

“You get used to it,” Cassian said, scrunching his nose at a woman blowing her nose loudly in a handkerchief. 

Nina made a face but did not comment, soldering through the crowd of filthy Muggles who did not know their place in the world to approach the entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

“Nina!” She turned around to see Gina, who was accompanied by her mother. Their house elf was most likely already on the platform, just as Nina and Cassian’s were, because to bring them out in plain sight in Muggle London was breaching the Statue of Secrecy. “Are you excited?”

She nodded, allowing a small smile to slip onto her features. “Yes, of course. I’ve been waiting for this moment since Cassian went.”

Lady Porter does not say anything, just eyed Papa with that dirty way the women in Ambrosi Alley do. She was dressed somewhat close to the way the women dressed as well — a low-cut neckline which almost reached her navel, and a slit that went so high you could see almost the entirety of her thigh. The dress wrapped around her in dark red silk, dripping like crimson. The message was not subtle — she was dressed like a rose. 

Nina could see why Papa fraternized with her — she was stunning, with cocoa skin, long luscious curls, dark red lips, and thin eyebrows. Her makeup was bold and daring, just like herself, and she looked like a femme fatale from the soddy romance novels Mama sometimes read. However, Lady Porter was dangerous. There was a reason why she was the most notorious woman in the pure-blood world, and _not_ because she was stunningly beautiful.

In contrast, Mama was soft, pretty in a way that differed to Gina’s mother. She was not strikingly beautiful, but welcoming with wide, dark eyes and more gentle features. Nina inherited most of her looks from her mother — her nose, her eyes, her hair, and her smile, but she had more of Papa’s sharp features than she thought. Mama wore dark colours like most witches, but it was still softer and more subtle than the extravagant clothing they wore. She wore makeup too, soft and subtle and pretty that encompassed Mama as a whole. She was soft, kind, unwavering, but she was never happy.

“Are we going to get to the platform now?” Papa snapped, eying both his wife and Lady Porter angrily. 

Mama nodded weakly, gesturing towards Nina. “You go first, dear. It’s your first year of Hogwarts.”

Nina took a deep breath, preparing herself to run through the column. The first time she had done so was with Cassian, just two children with stars in their eyes and no real concept of the fraudulent state of their world. So much has changed since then, not just Cassian — who has become more and more like a perfect pure-blood heir — but Nina as well, who was well aware of how easy it was to break a perfect family. They were two icebergs, once attached, but the tide pushed them apart until they stood at opposite ends of the world. 

She counted down in her head, Grandmère’s prim and faux French accent saying, _“Trois, deux, un!_ ” and she was off, pumping her legs as she passed through the portal that separated the Muggle world from the Wizarding. It was like a breath of fresh air, almost as if she could breathe better. Muggle London was suffocating, full of mundane and frankly boring people, nothing like Wizarding London. 

Platform Nine and Three Quarters was once again filled with excited children and nervous parents, the first years almost obvious in the pure, unadulterated joy they showed, something that was a little more muted but still very much there in the students who were older. She examined it carefully, wondering where Ashlyn was — she claimed that she would arrive a little earlier because Evan James wanted to get a good compartment with Howie. However, her auburn haired friend was nowhere to be seen.

She heard Gina come up behind her with a gasp — Gina, unlike herself, did not have an older sibling, thus never saw Platform Nine and Three Quarters in its full glory. The clock was ticking on the wall behind her, with only a few minutes left before they should begin to board, but Nina was not worried. 

“ _This_ is Platform Nine and Three Quarters?” Gina looked around in wonder, before setting her eyes on the Hogwarts Express, which glinted like rubies in the morning sunlight. “It’s much larger than I thought it would be.”

Nina smiled to herself. “Well, yes, it has to hold all of the students going to Hogwarts — from first years to seventh years. It has to be large.”

“Still.” Her eyes were wide with awe, and Nina realized with a frightening start that Gina had not seen much of the Wizarding World, with her mother a scarlet letter in the black and white that was Wizarding society, therefore obscured from the world. Everything was almost new to her — like a Muggle-born in a way, but Gina was not anything close to the filthy imposters. It didn’t matter to Nina however, as _she’ll_ be the one to show Gina around, to introduce her to their culture better than anyone else could. “It’s magnificent.”

Gina’s awe was cut short with the arrival of their parents and Cassian, who strolled calmly out of the barrier. He hadn’t run through it since first year, having matured since then. 

“Are you children ready to board the train?” Papa asked with mirth in his eyes — something Nina later in life would reflect back upon to notice that it was not mirth, but condescending. “You want to get a good compartment, somewhere with no filthy Mudbloods or even half-bloods lurking around.”

“You could sit with me, Star,” Cassian offered with a bright smile. “My friends and I always sit next to the other Slytherins. You would like it a lot; we talk about politics often, as well as the current state of the Wizarding World.”

Nina stifled her disgust. She enjoyed the political climate of the Wizarding World, yes, every sensible pure-blood girl would, but Travers and Avery alone were horrid, terrible boys. She couldn’t imagine the rest of their lot lurking around, sneering at some random first year that was not her, but could have been.

Instead, she plastered a smile. “No thank you, I want to find Ashlyn and get a compartment of our own. Pave a way for myself more specifically. Just like Grandmère has always said.”

“Oh, of course,” Cassian replied with a shallow dip of recognition and a small flicker of — what was it? — _relief_ , something that flew off his features just as quickly as it flew on. Nina resisted the urge to curl her lip in amusement; for the perfect pure-blood heir, Cassian had a terrible neutral expression. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at the school after you get sorted. Goodbye Maman, Father,” he tipped his head towards Lady Porter, “and Lady Porter. Maman, Father, I’ll write to you as much as possible.”

Papa smiled, clasping Cassian on the shoulder. “I know you’ll excel as always, my boy.” His tone was as close to warmth as he could muster, something Nina found a little odd, but endearing all the same. 

“Goodbye my darling boy,” Mama sniffed, kissing Cassian’s forehead. “I hope you have fun.”

Cassian gave them a reassuring smile, not even looking back as he strolled towards the Hogwarts express. Nina turned to Papa, who gave her an almost kind smile and hand on her shoulder. “I know that you will do the Rosier name proud, daughter,” he said, tone not wavering quite like a threat, but the sentiment was still there. “Hopefully, the first Rosier daughter in Slytherin house since your aunt Druella.”

 _Hopefully_. Nina did not let the words affect her, only nodding in kind, murmuring a quiet but firm, “Goodbye Papa,” just like any good pure-blood girl would. Docile and agreeable, Nina dipped her head graciously as she swallowed back her fear, for all she wanted was to be in Slytherin. And if she wasn’t —

She would be the failure Papa thought she was. 

(She would be like Mama.)

When Nina turned to the mentioned woman, the latter flung her arms around her daughter, not quite sobbing but so very close to it. Nina did not know what to do; on the one hand, she was still terribly angry that her mother decided to possibly ruin their family’s reputation with her affair with a Mudblood, not only so but a woman, but on the other, she was still her mother. Someone who was there every waking moment of her life, more constant than Cassian, more attentive than Tilly, more understanding than Ashlyn. 

The tear slipped out of her eye before she could stop it, sliding down her cheek like a raindrop on a window, and she clung to her mother, unsure of what the year could entail. Anything could happen, and no matter how much Nina prepared, planned, and schemed, she could not control it.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispered softly, not wanting Papa to overhear. 

Mama shook. “I’ll miss you too, my darling. So, so much.” She withdrew herself from around her daughter, grasping her arms and looking into the identical chocolate depths. “But no matter what happens, I am so very proud of you. You will be an excellent witch, someone capable of not only great power and wit, but great heart. My dear, you will excel no matter where you are.” She dropped her voice lower, gripping tighter. “Never forget who you are, Nina _Salazar_ -Rosier. Do not forget where you come from, _your own ideals,_ not ones handed to you since you were young, and your goals. To do so would be to forget yourself.” She bit her lip, unsure of what Mama would say next. “And I need you to promise me something, alright?”

Nina nodded. “Anything.”

“ _If_ you are a Slytherin, do not let that consume your entire being. You are so much more than just a house, more than just a last name. You are a very special girl capable of many great things, my darling, and you don’t even know it yet.”

“Mama —” Nina said haltingly, but was cut off.

“Hush, my star, you need to board now. I’ll see you at Christmas, I’ll write to you every week. I won’t forget your birthday.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead, teary-eyed. “I love you darling.”

“I love you too, Mama!” Nina cried, but was pried apart by Papa, who looked at her disapprovingly.

“It’s time for you to go,” he informed her coldly, and Nina stumbled back, willing herself to dry her tears. “Goodbye Nina, don’t disappoint me.”

She steeled herself, the tears fading and the tremble of her lips gone. “Of course Papa, I wouldn’t dare.”

With a resigned sigh, Nina turned away from her parents, from her _mother_ , and towards Gina, who gave her a sympathetic smile before tugging her along towards the train. There were children all around them who were saying goodbye to their parents, and Nina tuned them out, not wanting to see anymore of it. 

Nina and Gina spent their time weaving through the train, trying to find Ashlyn, who most certainly already found a compartment and was waiting for her. They find Ashlyn in the front end of the train, already sitting on the side facing away from the platform with her nose in a book.

With a smile, Nina cleared her throat, causing the auburn haired girl to jolt up from the novel in an almost comical fashion, before glaring at the culprit. “Why must this always happen?” Ashlyn groaned, placing a marker on the page she was one and putting the book away. “Who is this?”

“Gina Porter,” Nina introduced, watching the way Ashlyn’s eyes widened ever so subtly at the mention of _Porter_ , but thankfully didn’t say anything. After juggling which side she wanted to sit on, Nina chose to sit on the side opposite of Ashlyn, facing the platform, and near the window. Almost hesitantly, Gina slid down beside Ashlyn. “Gina, as you already know, this is Ashlyn Caswell, one of my close friends.”

Gina stuck her hand out in a friendly manner. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Ashlyn.”

“Likewise,” Ashlyn replied, shaking it, before asking quite abruptly, “where do you think you’re going?”

Gina blinked. “Pardon?”

“Well, seeing as you _are_ a pure-blood, you must have some semblance of knowledge about the four houses of Hogwarts. That, or you might as well have been living under a rock, which I suppose could be the case, since no one really _saw_ you for the past eleven years.”

“Ashlyn!” Nina hissed, looking apologetically at Gina, who waved it off good-naturedly.

“No, no, that’s completely justifiable,” Gina responded primly. “The reason my mother hid me from the rest of the world was to take me out of scrutiny. My step-fathers have all died tragically, and she thought it would be unfair to thrust me into the spotlight, especially since my own father died.” She met Ashlyn’s gaze, a little steely, but something only Nina caught. “And to answer your question, Slytherin of course.”

“Well, Slytherin is the best house to be in,” Ashlyn noted. “All of the most powerful wizards were from Slytherin. Merlin himself was, of course, one of the many great ones who was. Ravenclaws are decent, I guess, they’re mostly know-it-alls and insufferable, but much more manageable than Hufflepuffs. But don’t get me started on Gryffindors! Absolutely horrid, cocky with no means to back it up, always thinking that they are better even though they are just plain.”

Nina opened her mouth to agree, but was distracted by the conductor, who called for the last boarding. Children clutched their family in goodbye once more, much more tearful and sad than Nina and Cassian’s were, before they scurry onto the train to board at the last minute. The gears beneath them screech horribly, but all Nina could do was try to find Mama in the sea of black and navy.

The train starts to pull away from the platform just as Nina makes eye contact with her mother, who smiles sadly at her daughter before waving, not quite the proper way for Lady Rosier to behave, but nonetheless, made Nina feel all the more better. She did not wave back, but gave her mother a wide smile, watching her become smaller and smaller until she became a speck in the sea of black, blending in with everyone else.

Nina suddenly didn’t feel like talking, and noticing how Ashlyn and Gina were engaged in a quiet, heated debate, Nina leaned her head against the window and looked out, trying to will herself into falling asleep through the long train ride ahead. It’s not the first time she’s been out of the country, far from it, but she can’t help but watch the landscape blur into an incohesive picture, something that became more and more unfocused as Nina’s eyes slid shut. 

Just before she slid into sleep, when the train just past London, the compartment door rattled open, making her eyes pop. Nina straightened herself, using a bit of magic to smoothen her hair and clothing, before narrowing her eyes at the two boys standing in the doorway, laughing with each other. 

One is small, with bright red hair and a dopey smile, but with eyes sharp and alert, giving away more than the rest of him did. The other was tall and lanky, with curly hair, sharp features not unsimilar to her cousins from the Black family tree, and a wicked smile. It was clear that he was going to be very handsome when he was older, with mischievous, almost cruel hazel eyes. 

If Nina was anyone else, she would cower with fear. But Nina was a Rosier and Salazar all in one, and she did not _hide_ from bullies. So when the redhead asked, not so much of a question as it was a demand, “This compartment is taken, I suppose?” Nina did not become frantic. The taller boy leaned against the doorway with a smirk not unlike the one Cassian wore when belittling a lesser half-blood from Slytherin.

Boys did not scare Nina. They feared her. She was beautiful and talented and brilliant and powerful, something so unattainable because of her status that she could only be approached by the best of the best. Before Ashlyn or Gina could say something, Nina cut in, “It depends. Who are you, exactly?”

The shorter one assessed her with gleaming eyes, his mouth twisting into something that was not quite a smirk, but close all the same. “I don’t know, why does it matter to you?”

She sniffed, turning her nose up in the way Grandmère and Aunt Druella did, disgusted and downright condescending. “We don’t want to associate with the wrong kind,” she stated bluntly, curling her lips in a cruel smile. “Names mean everything here, of course.”

The boy looked at her, as if sizing her up, before replying snidely, “Big Red.”

“Big Red?” Ashlyn laughed, clear as day. “Your parents were as cruel to name you after a dog?”

He bared his teeth at her. “It’s a family name, actually.”

“You’re a Muggle-born, aren’t you?” Gina accused, standing up and putting her hands on her hips, her icy stare rivaling Nina’s own. 

“What, like it matters to you?” Nina snapped her head over to the taller boy, who moved from his spot on the doorframe to _finally_ grace them with his presence. “There is nothing wrong with being a Muggle-born. Well, unless you’re an up-in-your-arse pure-blood supremacist.”

Nina’s stare turned outright icy. “And who might you be?”

“Ricky Bowen, Your Highness.” He gave her a mocking bow, eyes glinting cruelly. 

She scrunched her nose in disgust at the name. _Bowen_. The most notorious Wizarding families outside her own for one reason, and one reason only: they were blood-traitors. Turning their back forever on the rest of pure-bloods, belittling their own kind to openly fraternize with Mudbloods, they were worse than the filth they associated with. 

“Oh, I know all about your family,” Nina drawled, placing her hand in her pocket and wrapping it around her wand. “You’re the filth that dirties our society even more than those filthy Mudbloods. You’re just as bad as them!”

Her voice did not turn shrill, but Bowen bared his teeth, stepping closer to her. “You care so much about your precious bloodlines and names, but you may just be a lesser pure-blood, someone who tried to clamber up the society to try and win worthless riches. Mudbloods are just as talented as you lot, if not even _more_ , but you are just too backwards and jealous to realize that.”

“I’m Nina _Rosier_ , actually,” she replied icily, “and if you claim that Mudbloods are just as powerful, tell me, who are the Mudbloods who made history? Who created the world we know today? The one that makes us safe from the filthy Muggles who aren’t fit to lick the dirt off our boots?”

Bowen laughed. “The reason there isn’t any proof of Muggles making history was because _your_ kind erased it, _Nini_. And without Muggles, this world would be as inbred and disgusting as your murderer father. You Rosiers especially think the world owes them everything, yet doesn't do a cent for anyone else."

Quicker than lightning, Nina took her wand out of her pocket, and pointed it under his chin. “Call me _Nini_ again, insult my kind, and I’ll give you a taste of how my _murderer_ father is,” she hissed, digging it into his skin. “But it’s the first day, and I’m going to be gracious enough to allow you and your little Mudblood to leave unscathed.”

He stepped closer, grabbing her hand and forcing it down to the ground. “No thanks, I think I’ll stay,” he responded cockily, sliding into the seat that was beside her and reclining into it. Big Red followed his lead on the opposite side.

“One foot out of line, and I won’t be afraid to hex you,” she threatened, pointing it to him once more. It wasn’t worth it to hex him outright, especially on the first day of school, but when she could do it in the safety of the castle, she would. There was no doubt about it.

His eyes glimmered with amusement as he said, “Alright Nini, whatever you say.”

And her hands twitched as she was tempted to just shut him up once and for all, but did not. A perfect pure-blood girl does not attack with witnesses. 

If she learned one thing from that train ride, it was that she _hated_ Ricky Bowen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello! yes this did take a very long time, but through insistent prodding from certain people (you know who you are), i pushed myself to finish this chapter as soon as possible — well, as soon as possible being a month later, but at least i didn't think two months to post! if that ever does happen, feel free to annoy me into writing, because no one should wait two months for an update.
> 
> as always, let me know what you think about this chapter in the comments! kudos, comments, and bookmarks never fail to make me smile and it does help encourage writers to, well, write!


	6. the upholds of perfection

Hogwarts was large.

She’d read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_ , knew about the secret corridors, the stories behind the little brick in the corridor, the rolling hills, the squid in the lake, but seeing it up close was something that truly took Nina’s breath away. There was nothing that could compare to seeing the castle up close, not even the extensive portraits Papa hung in his study.

Right now, she stood in the corridor near the Great Hall, in the middle of a long line, the prospective children who would soon fit into one of the four houses, a sea of black in the fire-lit hall. The first-years started to walk down the hall, and Ashlyn stepped on her heels more than once, but Nina held her head high, willing herself to be graceful and elegant and all the more Rosier. 

Nina was not distinct in the crowd, not unique just yet, and blended in with the dark robes the others wore as well. She could not make out many of the faces of the other students, but could catch the bright red that was the hair of Big Red, and where Big Red was, Bowen most certainly was as well.

Big Red was at first glance demure, small despite his name, but was quite loud and overbearing. He watched Bowen like he was a god sent from Mount Olympus to _save_ his kind, to preserve the slowly decimated group of Muggle-born witches and wizards who knew that they did not belong and yet stayed. He did not know his place in the world, the little worm swimming in a large ocean full of fish and eels and sharks, all waiting to pounce when the moment fit them. He will learn. Every Muggle-born learns their place.

Bowen was arguably worse, knowing very well that he could have it all, could be the _crème de la crème_ just as much as she was. The Bowens were an ancient family, just as pure-blooded as hers, but were excluded from the Sacred Twenty-Eight for the sole reason that Raechard Bowen decided to help fight in the World Wars, declaring that it was their duty sa the neighbouring kind to aide the British Muggles in the war. Ricky Bowen was no exception to his Muggle-loving family, all terribly cocky and proud over their dwindling family name. 

Sitting beside him on the train ride did not do any less to squash Nina’s urge to hex him so hard that he could not reincarnate for the next century. It was like sitting next to a cursed object from the Rosier family vault — you never know when it was about to explode. Big Red was angry, stubborn, resentful, but Bowen’s anger was a raging fire that could not be put out with a simple _Aguamenti._ He was like a lion; prowling one moment before pouncing and roaring the next.

Nina did not want to associate with the two no more than any sensible pure-blood girl. Big Red was a Muggle-born, not fit to even be a servant in the Rosier household, and Bowen… Bowen was worse. Their lot would end up in Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, perhaps Ravenclaw, but not Slytherin. Nina did not know what she would do if Ricky Bowen was in Slytherin.

They would not faze her. They could not faze her.

She could not afford for them to.

The doors of the Great Hall open with a flourish, and Nina could hear the other children’s awe at the sight of the magnificent room. The lanterns flickered as Nina drew her focus to the ceiling of the room, which, as mentioned in _Hogwarts: A History_ , was a depiction of the night sky.

Stars twinkled above her, _Cassiopeia_ sparkling against the midnight blue, and Gina whispered in her ear, “It’s real, isn’t it? The sky?”

“It’s enchanted,” Nina corrected, shifting her gaze to the floating candles. Her stomach twists in a way that was both uncomfortable and unfamiliar, but it could not be worry. Any other child would be transfixed with excitement, a deep thrill curling deep in their bellies, but all Nina could feel is the cold trickle of something that was _not_ that. 

She straightened her back and twisted her mouth into a neutral position, surveying everyone else as impassively as she had seen her cousins do multiple times. She tilted her chin up, haughty like a queen, yet her eyes roamed the four tables to try and find Cassian in the sea of dark robes.

She met his eyes, curling her lips into a wry smile, something that must have made her look much older, but Nina was beyond her years, beyond _everyone_ . He gave her a reassuring nod and a stiff smile, in a way so very Rosier that no one else would have noticed it. He did not wave or grin or mouth _“Good luck!”_ like any other sibling would, as the siblings of other students did, but Nina did not pay that into mind. 

Because when the Hat came out, all of her focus went onto that.

It started its song, the old, worn hat transfixing everyone in the room, Nina can’t hear it over the thumping of her heart. It ran faster than Cassian flew on his new Firebolt, feeling as if it would soon burst if she couldn’t slow it down. She took some deep, calming breaths, digging her nails into her palms to slow down her heart.

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_ _  
_ _Where dwell the brave at heart,_ _  
_ _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_ _  
_ _Set Gryffindors apart;_

Nina flicked her eyes to the house of red and gold, all clumped together and whispering amongst the other. The Gryffindors were full of blood-traitors, half-bloods, and Muggle-borns, all groomed together in their arrogant house. The house of the lion was one that many of the non pure-blood elite coveted, for no reason whatsoever but for the fact that Albus Dumbledore himself, the current headmaster of Hogwarts, had attended. Many people thought that Dumbledore was the greatest wizard of all time. But not Nina and her family. 

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_ _  
_ _Where they are just and loyal,_ _  
_ _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_ _  
_ _And unafraid of toil;_

One of Nina’s biggest fears was that _she_ would be in Hufflepuff, which would be impossible because Nina was a perfect pure-blood girl, the perfect daughter, even better than the children of Aunt Druella and all of the other ancient Wizarding families. Papa often voiced it to her, so did her aunt and cousins and casual members of pure-blood society, but Nina would give everything to prove them wrong. She would prove them wrong. She could not be in the house of the badger, swathed in black and yellow, just as her father had implied.

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_ _  
_ _If you’re a ready mind,_ _  
_ _Where those of wit and learning,_ _  
_ _Will always find their kind;_

Ravenclaws were not considered “bad” in the pure-blood elite. In fact, the house of bronze and blue was perhaps the most accepted house outside of Slytherin. Rowena Ravenclaw herself was a witch of great renown, both for her creativity and incomparable wit. Yet, the eagle could not compare to the snake in the eyes of her father and grandmother, for Nina could only be in one house, and one house only.

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_ _  
_ _You’ll make your real friends,_  
_Those cunning folks use any means_ _  
_ To achieve their ends.

The house of Salazar Slytherin himself, known for his blood purity ideals, was the most acceptable house for any pure-blood girl. The most ancient and revered house in pure-blood society, to be in the pit of snakes is something Nina had been vying and hoping for since she was a little girl. Cassian was in green in silver, so was her father, and his father, and his. The Rosier bloodline could be traced throughout Slytherin house, and Nina knew many of her relatives who were _also_ in Slytherin, including the three daughters of Aunt Druella, Papa’s younger, yet just as icy, sister. 

All Nina wanted was to be in Slytherin. Is that too much to ask?

The Sorting Hat finished its song, and Professor Minerva McGonagall — a Gryffindor, yes, but a witch so respected that even Papa put respect in his tone when speaking about her, and _yes_ she was a half-blood but she was one of the most brilliant witches for many ages — stepped up to begin the sorting. She pulled out a list that was most certainly bewitched to be shorter than it actually was, for there were many first years that had yet to be sorted into the four long tables that held children with pointed hats.

“ABBOTT, JOHN!” McGonagall announced, and Nina watched as a boy scurried over to the stool beside McGonagall, who placed the aforementioned Sorting Hat on his head. Rosier is quite far down the list, not nearly as early as Ashlyn, who proudly stated that she would not have to wait long to be sorted into Slytherin. Gina was only a little before her, as Porter was just two letters away from Rosier, and the girl was nearly bouncing with excitement in the calm and collected way her friend could. Nina didn’t mind being late in the list; she was patient, and it would be nice to have a lot of time to prepare for the Sorting Hat, since Cassian and Papa never went into explicit detail of what happened during the time it took for them to be declared Slytherins, and although Nina was most definitely being sorted into the house of snakes, she would like time to prepare.

The Sorting Hat screamed out _“Hufflepuff!”_ and John Abbott scurried off the stool to join his new comrades in the house of Helga Hufflepuff. Nina refrained from curling her lips in that dreadfully unladylike expression she’d grown accustomed to making over the past two years, but she couldn’t help it; the Abbotts, pure-bloods and all, were born to be sorted in the house for the hardworking. It was hardly a surprise that their son was placed in that house.

McGonagall continued with “ACKERLY, MARILYN!” to which a small blonde scurried to the stool Abbott just sat in. Nina watched this with less interest, for Ackerly was not a name she recognized, therefore a half-blood or Muggle-born. However, as the hat touched her head, it bellowed, _“Ravenclaw!”_ just as quickly. The girl scampered to the applause of the house of bronze and blue. Nina held back a scoff. 

She observed each sorting with a varied amount of interest; for pure-bloods, she watched and noted their reactions, or made a face with disgust when members of certain families she knew where blood-traitors were sorted into houses other than Slytherin. Muggle-borns squirmed in the stool with much less finesse and gracefulness, much more uncomfortable to be thrust in the spotlight.

Ricky Bowen was, of course, sorted into Gryffindor, met with thunderous applause and cheers from the house of gold and red. The Sorting Hat bellowed the house name as soon as it touched his curly hair, and Bowen’s smirk was so large that Nina scoffed. Nina refrained from rolling her eyes, as it was something so _typical_ and _boring_ of him, since all Bowens have been in Gryffindor for as long as Nina could go back on their family tree. He was the third student to be sorted into this house, after Glenn Alders, a Muggle-born, and Violetta Bagnell, a well-known half-blood with influential parents in the Ministry. Anyone would have thought he was first, however, with all the attention paid to him.

There were at least fifteen children who were sorted prior to Samantha Bulstrode, who was the first girl sorted into Slytherin. It was strange, seeing as they must have sorted seven Hufflepuffs, five Gryffindors, two Ravenclaws, and one Slytherin, but Slytherin was much more selective. It was very rare for a Muggle-born to be placed in a house full of pure-bloods and very proud half-bloods. Samantha looked haughty as she glided off the stool, but Nina noticed that her face could have been a little more steely, and her mouth could have quivered less, but the Bulstrodes were nowhere as prestigious as the Rosiers, so the effort, surprisingly, was there. 

They round the Cs, and Roger Calvert took his sweet time with the Hat, sitting in the stool for what seemed like hours. It was only a mere five minutes before the Sorting Hat called out, _“Slytherin!”_ to the scattered applause of the house of snakes, before Ashlyn squeezed her hand. 

“Good luck,” Nina whispered, even though Ashlyn did not _need_ luck for she was going to be a Slytherin, as was Gina, and they were going to rule the school in due time. Ashlyn did not say anything, but walked over gracefully to the stool before sitting down. McGonagall placed the Hat on her neat auburn locks, and after a few seconds, the Sorting Hat declared Ashlyn a Slytherin.

Nina breathed out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and she met Ashlyn’s eyes and offered her an approving smile. The girl grinned back, forgetting all of her training for the moment, and she could see Evan James and Howie give her a big hug and pat on the back. Gina beamed beside her, squeezing Nina’s hand.

She watched the sortings with much less interest, but there were some highlights that stood out to her. One was a girl with cacao skin and a confident walk, who all but sauntered to the stool, only to be declared a Slytherin as well. Her last name was not one she knew, but it was common enough to be obvious that she was a half-blood. No Muggle-born would have been as confident as her, but her less than fortunate last name held her back.

Big Red got sorted into Gryffindor, as expected as Bowen whooped louder than all. The redhead looked pleased as he made his way over to the table, receiving clasps on the back by many of the boys. Gina went up shortly, and Nina gave her a reassuring smile right before the Sorting Hat got placed on her head, also declaring her a Slytherin much to Nina and, judging from her expression, Ashlyn’s joy. 

They finally reached the Rs after what seemed like hours, but Nina was patient. Connor Radford and Abel Ralph were placed into Ravenclaw, slapping each other on the bacon with huge grins on their faces. Morgana Rashley gave everyone a chilling smile when sorted into Slytherin, the Hat mere seconds on her dark head. Desmond Ridelson and Ilsa Roades went to Hufflepuffs with little smiles on their faces, and Nina barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes.

Finally, Carlos Rodriguez strutted up to the stool from in front of her, his expression thinly veiling his nervousness. Nina knew that she was next, and prepared her face, schooling it into a cold, impartial expression that would have made Papa proud. The Hat declared Rodriguez a Gryffindor less than a minute later, and then McGonagall called, “ROSIER, NINA!”

All eyes turned to her, and Nina worked a perfectly cool smile onto her face as she marched to the stool. Her head was high up like a queen surveying her subjects, and when she sat down, the seat warm from its past occupants, it was her claiming her throne, her birthright. Everyone was looking at her, some with curiosity, others with boredom, and in Bowen’s case, utter contempt. She didn’t pay any of them any mind, and turned her own attention to the Sorting Hat being lowered onto her head by McGonagall.

“Alright then,” the Hat said, a deep, rumbling voice inside her mind, and Nina did not flinch, no matter how much she wanted to. “You see this, this is interesting my dear. Your mind, so full of conflict, but your potential is unlimited.”

 _Get onto it,_ she thought drily. _We don’t have all day._

“Demanding, aren’t you?” Nina refrained from rolling her eyes and stamping her foot like a child. She was better than that. “You care deeply about people, wanting to do _anything_ to protect your family and those you care about. You are brave, willing to speak your mind and stand for what you believe in. The house of the lion would suit you well, child.”

The first thing Nina thought about was Mama. Papa’s cold threats, Cassian’s distant behaviour, and Mama’s endless sadness. Nina had to be perfect. There was no room for failure, no wiggle room for the stupid child who tried everything to be the best, could have been the best if she wasn’t a _girl._ Nina could live with her failure, but Mama would not be able to handle Papa’s wrath. And if Papa found out about her mother’s affair — to a Muggle-born no less — she would never see her mother again.

 _Not a Gryffindor,_ she begged. She would not disappoint her family, her bloodline. She was perfect. She was nothing less. _I want to be in Slytherin. I_ **_have_ ** _to be a Slytherin._

“You are much more flexible than you think, child,” the Hat remarked idly. “Red and gold would suit you well. You are quite outspoken, you know.” Nina started to panic as she could feel her heartbeat spike. “But I can see it — the cold determination, your willingness to do _anything_ , the cunningness of you, and your ambition that will take you very far, my dear, much further than you think it possible.” Nina’s breath was stuck in her throat. “And what would a Rosier be if not for a Slytherin? That is all you can think about anyways. It would be _fun_ to see one in Gryffindor, but as you wish it child, I think you will do exceptionally well in… SLYTHERIN!”

A wave of cold relief washed over her as she smiled, something that was genuine and not just for show, as she finally exhaled. If not for the people watching her, now with mild interest, she would have broken down into tears of relief alone. McGonagall slid the hat off her head, and Nina made her way over to the house of green and silver, over to her house for the next seven years. The Slytherins cheered loudly for her, and her older cousins gave her cold smiles of approval. Nina nodded back in acknowledgement and sat beside Ashlyn and Gina.

Cassian slid in beside her, wrapping an arm around her. “You made it, Star!” His face was full of relief, then, and Nina knew that he too doubted that she would be in Slytherin. She didn’t return his half-hearted embrace, only smiled at him with the appropriate amount of warmth she should give her sibling. “You got me nervous there, with the three minute hat stall. Travers thought that they were going to place you in Hufflepuff or something.”

Although it was a joke, it stung to hear it from Cassian, who up until Hogwarts had declared that he would support her no matter what. _I would have been in Gryffindor actually,_ she almost replied, wanting to see the look on his face when he heard that his _little sister_ would have been with Muggle-borns and blood-traitors. “I was just asking the Hat about the magic behind it,” she lied smoothly, and to this Ashlyn and Gina perked up, leaning into the conversation. “I’ve read about the charms in _Hogwarts: A History_ and wanted to know the exact charms behind it.”

“What did it say?” Ashlyn asked with rapt interest, just as interested as Gina, who shifted closer to both Nina and Cassian.

She shrugged. “It explained the charms and combinations up there. I wish I had a quill and parchment with me to write it all down, it would have helped immensely with my O.W.L.S.”

Cassian patted her on the back, giving her a small smile. “I’m proud of you Star, and I know our parents are too. Make sure you write them later tonight to tell them the good news, alright?” Giving her a squeeze on her shoulder, he added, “It’s all up from here, Nina. I promise.”

She nodded. The sorting wrapped up a few minutes later, and after Dumbledore’s remarks — as odd as the man himself— which she did listen to respectfully, food appeared on the table. She could hear gasps from the other tables, but not her table of course, and as if all of the children forgot their manners, dug in almost immediately. Nina held back, not wanting to look like a slob going headfirst into the mountains of biscuits, before Gina nudged her over to the buttery rolls. 

Won over by the grumbling of her stomach, as she only ate a chocolate frog on the train, she took two rolls, a piece of roast, and scooped mashed potatoes on her plates, listening in to the gossip of the first year girls. The conversations were not structured, with no real meaning behind them, so there was plenty of bickering and backhanded compliments, which Nina took to note while nibbling on her roll.

She sometimes chimed in, and when she did, everyone listened. She was from the house of the most standing, and from the way she carried herself, many of the girls either respected or feared her. Everyone knew the Rosiers, and especially the latest generation of them because of Mama’s own bloodline. Salazars were famed in the English Wizarding World as well, and Nina enjoyed the commanding feeling over the girls.

Gina beside her was listening aptly, but sometimes her eyes wondered. They stayed sharp, for although Nina prided herself over her tenacity and wit, Gina was perhaps the most cunning of all the snakes. Her mother was Allesandra Porter, the infamous black widow, and Gina must have inherited her skills. Nina bumped her shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”

“It’s just very different from home,” she said. “Not the magic or anything, but the environment itself is just something I don’t really see anywhere else?”

“It seems alive, doesn’t it?” Nina shifted in her chair before taking a small sip of her pumpkin juice. “Home is not nearly as warm as Hogwarts, but perhaps that’s because of the multitude of people here. Back in the manor, it was just me, my mother, the house elves, and sometimes my father.”

Gina nodded, taking another bite of her chicken and swallowed it. “It was just mostly me at home. Mother was always out with her new companion, and I guess the house elves don’t make much for company, so it was kind of lonely?”

“You have Ashlyn and I now,” Nina promised, and they shifted their gaze over to their redheaded friend, who was giggling at something one of the girls (most likely a half-blood, seeing as she did not recognize her) said. There was ice cream for dessert, and Nina savoured the vanilla on her tongue. She missed the ice cream she got with Mama from Fortescue’s, but the ice cream here tasted just as sweet, just missing the mark of familiarity and home. She did not know what to think about the girls, her housemates now, with vicious Phyllis and coy Samantha and frigid Morgana…

But they were her equals in some sense. They were the current pure-blood elite of their year, and Nina would need to make connections with them to ensure alliances for the future. With the fraudulent state of their world, their alliances would be very important. All of the girls seem to know each other very well already, and not for the first time, Nina resented Papa for isolating her from the rest of the Wizarding World. It’s evident with the way they make each other cackle at jokes, and easy familiarity that even someone as charismatic as Nina could not replicate.

They were some of the most magnetic people Nina had ever met. Terrible, yes. Vindictive, most definitely. But Nina wanted to know them, wanted to be their friend and not just someone looking from the outside, as if she was a lioness that could not go near the pit of snakes, less she got bit. Ashlyn clearly knew them just as well, seeing as her own father was much more open to letting her associate with just about anyone, and sometimes she would pull Nina and Gina into the conversation. Sometimes she would say something wry, an off-hand insult about one of the Muggle-borns in Hufflepuff, which sent their sections into an uproar. She could not stop smiling after that.

By the time all of the girls were giggling about a handsome fifth year — a Malfoy, no less — said blond hair prefect strolled in with his fellow prefect, her cousin, beautiful silver-haired Narcissa, who was regarded by the others with an admiration that much deeper than the appreciation for how well put together the older girl was. She did not talk to them much, but she sent Nina a small smile and nod, something so very rare because her cousins were _cold,_ just like Nina. The difference between being an eleven and fifteen year old seemed like being on different sides of the world, so far away that it was only a theory, nothing more.

As they made their way through the hallways, to which the girls huffed about being too confusing — Nina rolled her eyes to that — she took note of the beautiful moving portraits and tried to spot the ones she read about. She didn’t realize that she was slowing down until Gina nudged her, and she picked up her pace, promising herself that she would look at them later.

There was a door to the right of the Entrance Hall that led to the common room, and Narcissa whispered the password, letting them all in. Going down the stone steps, many of the first year girls and boys alike gasped. This was something that was described to them in explicit detail, but nothing could truly compare to the real room. It was bathed in a green-ish tinge, with it being partially under the Great Lake, with low-back couches and tapestries around the room. It smelt nice; like fresh water and air, which could have been because of the lake, but Nina took another deep breath, taking it all in.

The prefects set them to find their own rooms, and waving good night to her cousins and Cassian, Nina made her way to her dorm room. Her belongings were deposited in a room with Gina, Ashlyn, and Kourtney Greene, a half-blood but fiery and passionate who would do _very well_ in Slytherin. Nina chose the bed with the best view of the lake water, carefully setting her stuff on it. Ashlyn was to her left, Gina to her right, and Kourtney to her far left, and Nina had a feeling that this would not be bad at all.

She fluffed out her pillows and placed her belongings in a trunk at the foot of her bed, before getting dressed for bed in her favourite silk nightgown, the one that reminded her of home and her mother’s hugs the most. She missed Mama, missed her large bed that was not too different from the one she had now, missed the empty, cold manor altogether. She was used to privacy, seeing as she had two rooms all to herself in Dragonrose Den, and like most of her dorm mates — she couldn’t speak for Kourtney, as she didn’t know her well at all — had never shared a room before. 

Ashlyn, Gina, and even Kourtney attempted to talk until the morning, but sleep won over by midnight, snoring softly in their beds. Nina made her way over to the windowsill, looking out the clear lake. This was the lowest underwater she had ever been, and it would be different living in a dorm with three other girls. She drew patterns on the window, sometimes random shapes and other times phoenixes and dragons, more so blobs than anything else. What would Mama be doing now? What about Papa? Do they miss her? Mama probably did, probably curled up in her bed in the large manor with no children and a husband that most likely hated her, all alone. 

Nina felt a tear slip, before retreating to her bed. The mattress was soft, the pillows felt nice, and tomorrow was important. She was going to be the best witch they’ve seen in centuries.

**Author's Note:**

> if you're interested, looking for updates or just want to chat, check me out on twitter [@ataharcot](https://twitter.com/ataharcot)!


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